


RARITY

by MellikeMellow



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, I only kind of know where I'm going with this, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Romance, friends first, just enough to make you uncomfortable, maybe borderline creepy sometimes, oh there might be some buddy cop humor, then we'll get to the love part, we're going to space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2019-09-24 14:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 70,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17101949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellikeMellow/pseuds/MellikeMellow
Summary: Captured by some unknown galactic organization, Bulla and Goten have no clue why they were kidnapped or what lies in store for them while in the hands of their alien captors. All they know for sure is that they only have each other to rely on out in space. / Slow-burn romance, adventure, adult themes, WIP





	1. chapter 1 (scarce)

**Author's Note:**

> So I have this plot bunny that has not been able to evacuate my brain. Short and long of it is pretty basic: Bulla and Goten get captured by some unknown galactic organization and are carted off as the two closest-to-pure Saiyans (that are - ahem - unrelated) remaining in the known galaxy.
> 
> Of note: in this, Bulla is 22 and Goten is 28. BECAUSE SORRY NOT SORRY IF AKIRA TORIYAMA WON'T APPROPRIATELY DISPLAY AGING IN HIS SHOW THEN NEITHER WILL I
> 
> Anyway, maybe more will come, probably, I dunno if it'll all be linear or just come out as the mood or idea strikes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulla and Goten have been kidnapped by an unknown organization.

The unfathomable vastness spread out further than time itself, and all she could think of was how small they were in the universe. Although she wasn't sure if the view outside was any better than the reality of where she was trapped presently, Bulla was glad for the large window on the left wall of their cell nevertheless. It provided a momentary escape, at least.

There was no telling how long they'd been crammed into these quarters together. Bulla figured it had been a couple of days at most, but despite her inherited genius it was proving difficult to keep track of star patterns given how fast the vessel carrying them was moving.

Her lips folded as she withdrew her thumb from between her teeth. Looking at her fingernails now, she blushed at how far down she had nibbled them all, little jagged stubs with a cracking manicure she had meant to clean up … before. With a sidelong glance toward her cellmate, Bulla self-consciously tucked both palms under her bottom, hoping to hide her anxiety from notice.

They both had been relatively silent since their capture, spare her hysterical outburst upon realization of the true gravity of their situation. Her brother and he had always talked about their daring childhood adventures (they both had even been to space before!) and she had heard mostly second-hand stories about her father and mother's exploits in their heydays. However, Bulla had been born into a time of comfort and peace and had never really encountered a  _real_ threat- a  _real_ danger. This was all drastically new to her.

She swallowed and peeked again at Goten, whose uncharacteristically stoic frame had not moved for quite some time in the adjacent corner. To his credit, he had not judged her as she suspected her brother would've. He offered her comfort through her tears, his confidence that everything would be okay buoying her back up out of panic, and she was grateful and a little bit ashamed of herself, if she was being honest.

What would her father think?

Unbidden, fresh tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and Bulla drew her knees up closer to her chest, arms tight around her legs. Thinking of her father broke her heart. She knew he would save her, but  _when_? And  _how_? She had never once doubted that her father would be her personal hero in any predicament, but now her youthful naivety began to falter.

"You've been pretty quiet," his voice startled her out of her melancholy reverie. Bulla whipped her head in his direction. Goten wasn't looking at her; his eyes still gently closed and his face and body still unmoved from his cross-legged position on the floor, and she wondered for a moment if she had hallucinated it.

"I'm just-" she cleared the wetness from her throat. "I was just thinking, I've never seen space…"

Goten opened his eyes, and his weak smile warmed her from the inside out. In this unfamiliar and scary place, he provided solace. "Yeah? What do you think?"

Bulla looked out the window again. She hesitated, then shrugged. "I suppose it's surprising to actually see it so…." she pondered the word on the tip of her tongue and settled on, "... empty?"

He hummed behind her, and she turned toward the sound of him shuffling up from the floor. Goten stretched out his arms over his head, bending his torso left and right, relishing a few pops of bones and joints. Bulla tried to tamp down the flicker of that old flame she harbored for him so long ago as she watched his lean muscles moving under his clothes.

A childhood crush, innocent enough, and nothing more. Bulla had long since learned to play it off as she matured, but she'd be a liar if she didn't admit that his proximity always elicited a harder beating of her heart.

Goten sat down across from her on the opposite end of the window ledge, training his black gaze on the outside void. "Yeah. It is pretty empty out there, huh?"

"What were you doing over there?" Bulla queried abruptly, garnering his undivided attention. She nodded toward the corner he had just vacated.

"Meditating."

"Oh… I've never seen you do that."

He shrugged and picked something invisible from the curve of his knee, inspected it, then flicked it aside. "Probably not. I don't do it a whole lot." Goten tilted his head back until it thunked against the wall behind him, and his heavy sigh drew a mirrored one from Bulla's chest, too. "Piccolo and Gohan taught me, way back… but I never found much use or time for it then, I guess."

Bulla quirked a sad smile, supplying, "What, you have more free time in here or something?"

Goten gave a mirthless chuckle, but said nothing further.

"What are we gonna do, Goten?" Bulla couldn't fight the question any longer. "With these things-" she lifted her wrists, brandishing the bulky fashion accessory with which their captors had outfitted them both, "-How are we supposed to get out of here?"

He looked down at his shackles with a frustration Bulla understood. Goten turned his wrists over and over, examining the tech with confusion. It was a cute gesture; he clearly no idea what he was looking at, but Bulla had an inkling. It was likely the devices were being used as trackers or potentially as weapons against them- and she certainly wasn't as confident in her tech abilities as her mother and brother to risk tampering with the equipment and putting them both in potential jeopardy.

He huffed and shook his head, dropping his hands into his lap. "I don't know, kid. I guess we wait for our chance or an opening."

"Do you think…" She bit her lip, and Goten looked up at her to finish. The words had begun to bubble up before she could consider them, and Bulla blushingly looked away. "Do you think… my dad's going to be able to find us?"

"Bulla, if there's anyone we can definitely count on, it's Vegeta," Goten assured her. "Your dad would go to the ends of the galaxy and back to find you. You don't need to worry about that." He faced the window, his smile wry. "Honestly, I'm pretty lucky to have gotten kidnapped with you."

Goten met her gaze again and her belly flip-flopped under the pressure of his earnest stare. "We're going to get out of this. I promise ya."

His words were somehow comforting and despairing all at once. She trusted in Goten, if not just for his experience alone, but because that's how their relationship had always been. Bulla was constantly suspicious of her brother - sibling love and all that - but never once had Goten given her a reason not to believe him.

But also, there was the fact that she had no other choice or option; it was either have faith, or face a far harsher reality, one that she just wasn't capable of imagining quite yet.

"Hey," he intoned and she stirred. "Why don't you lay down for a bit? I don't think either of us have really slept a wink."

Bulla shook her head. "No. I'm-"  _Too scared?_  She'd never say those words. Her chin set and she glared hard at the window pane. "I'm fine."

She felt more than saw him move from his perch across from her, and suddenly his warm palm was cradling the curve of her shoulder. Heat radiated from that spot where they touched, all the way to the top of her head and the tips of her toes, and Bulla hoped desperately she wasn't as pink as she felt.

"Bulla, c'mon. I'll watch out,," he offered kindly, his gaze soft and reminding her of how tired she truly was.

"What about you?"

Goten waved the hand that had been on her shoulder, and she missed the contact immediately. "Ah, I'll be fine! I'll get one after you." He motioned toward the solitary cot on the right of their cell with a jerk of his thumb. "Go on."

Bulla wavered. He wasn't wrong; she hadn't truly caught more than a few errant head-nods since their capture. She'd been too anxious, too afraid to do anything but stay vigilant. But staring into the void had begun to drain her, and Goten's gentle presence was proving soothing, making his offer all the more tempting.

Eventually, she relented. "Okay, okay…" Bulla drew herself up from the ledge and smoothed down her skirt, another wave of self-consciousness washing over her as Goten watched her move up and away. There was nothing other than her own girlish tendencies filling her with apprehension at the idea of sleeping in the same room as someone else - more specifically, in the same room as  _him_. Maybe, when she was just a child, it had been different, but now-

She paused at the side of the cot, looking over her shoulder with a toss of her long blue hair. "Just ... don't let anything happen to me, okay?"

He fixed her with a long look, his features trained into a serious expression she couldn't recall ever having seen before. Goten nodded just once, still as a statue otherwise.

Bulla swallowed and knelt down on the cot, trying not to cringe at the squeak of the springs or the clinical smell that wafted up from the thin linens as she pulled them aside. She gingerly tucked herself under the small blanket, wishing desperately she was wound deeply within her plush comforter and pillows of her bed back home. Bulla settled into the lumpy mattress, her breath quivering out of her, as her eyes closed and she willed her mind and body to relax.

Sleep did not come easy, but under his ever-watchful eye, it eventually claimed her.


	2. chapter 2 (limited)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulla and Goten find out why they've been captured and by whom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully everyone enjoys where this is going! Thanks for giving me a space to put my whacko ideas out there!

_Sirens were wailing all over the compound. Her head was foggy, like only half of her awareness was available to her, a stream of consciousness that was just narrative of what was going on around her._

_The sirens were so loud. Why were they so loud?_

_There was smoke - no, something else, something lighter, something dizzy, infiltrating the air around her, through her nose, in her chest, she couldn’t catch a deep enough breath._

_Hands, gloved, but not like those she always remembered, winding under her arms and hauling her limp body up._

_Why was she limp? She couldn’t summon energy. It was like scraping for light in the dark._

_Reaching out for the spark; for anything._

_There was screaming… was it her?  
_

_No, it was her mother._

_**Mom..**  she tried to call back, but her mouth couldn’t move._

_She heard another (another?) explosion, felt the area thunder around her, and suddenly she was flying._

_Then it went black._

 

It was rumbling again, and there were hands on her, shaking her. Bulla jolted upright from the cot with a short scream, the sheet clutched tight to her chest. Looking wildly around, she found Goten kneeling at her side, his eyes saucered in concern, and his hand hovering where her shoulder had been as she slept.

It took her a moment to realize her breaths were coming in choppy bursts - fear, again. Would she ever get used to that feeling? 

Embarrassment flooded her then, and Bulla threw the thin stretch of fabric away from her body. She drew away from her companion, snarling at him, “What the hell are you doing?! You’re supposed to be watching out for me, not throttling me!”

“I wasn’t– I’m, I’m sorry! It’s just, you were crying,” he offered lamely, blushing, and withdrew his offending hand. “Also, uh, I think we’re landing or something.”

Bulla wasn’t sure which revelation startled her more. She climbed out of the bed, serving Goten a dirty look as he shifted as though to assist her (blessedly, he thought better of it), and scurried over to the window.

Her breath caught, in equal parts terror and awe.

“What? What is it?” Goten wondered, as he approached from the side to peer out with her.

“It’s a space station, I think…”

No longer were they zooming through empty space. They had slowed to seemingly an idle, as below them floated a large domed structure, covered with blinking lights of various colors. It resembled the Capsule Corp compound in size and nearly in shape, though the crest of the dome flattened into a plateau. Along the side they were approaching were what appeared to be several docking stations. Another, smaller spacecraft looked to have just made contact with the hub, fog billowing out the back and red lights flashing as it engaged with the larger vessel.

Bulla couldn’t help wondering if there were other kidnapped individuals on that ship. Were they the only ones? Were any of their friends and family from Earth on board?

A thousand more questions tumbled around her headspace, but thought stalled altogether as another enormous boom rippled through the ship. Bulla fumbled to plant one palm on the window pane and reach out to brace the other hand on Goten’s arm. He caught her by the elbow, steadying her.

“What do you think is down there?” Goten gave voice to the question that worried her most.

 “I don’t know,” Bulla swallowed and cast a fretful look around their cell. “They never really said much to us, right? We don’t even know why they took us.”

 Both gasped in unison as they felt their stomachs bottom out from further descent. Bulla shot Goten a horrified look, and he gripped her arm comfortingly in response.

 “It’s fine, Bulla - we’re fine,” he assured her, and she tried desperately to let his words calm her.

 There came a whooshing sound above them, and a distant echo of metal against metal. The ship stilled soon after, but both remained frozen together by the window. Bulla’s heart was racing in her chest as she saw the space station in much more detail given their closer vantage point now. She could make out small windows and tiny figures marching between them, each one a person she prayed to recognize.

 A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, and she felt Goten move his thumb to wipe it delicately away. When she met his gaze, his eyes were soft and kind. She knew he wouldn’t chastise her for weakness, but nevertheless Bulla felt a sudden vulnerability under his keen observance that made her look away.

 The door to their cell abruptly whirred open, and both startled at the intrusion. The same guard they had seen just once since their capture entered. He was an abnormally tall and thin creature with a blue, scaly complexion, somewhere between fish scales and something reptilian. His mouth resembled that of a fish, although when he opened it to speak, rows of small, sharp teeth glittered behind his teal, puckered lips. The outfit he donned was exceptionally reminiscent of Vegeta’s armor, Bulla acknowledged with a terrible flip of her tummy. At his waist rested a holster, and immediately she began trying to formulate a plan to confiscate it from him. A side-eye of Goten, and she knew he was considering the same.

 “Ahh, perfect, you’re both ready,” the creature keened in a nasally pitch. “We are deboarding now. Both of you, come with me.”

“Where are we going?” Bulla questioned, and the creature gave a wrinkle of its slitted nose at her audacity. Emboldened, she pressed, “Where are we?”

 “I think you have the wrong impression,” he sneered. “This is not question and answer. It is command and follow.”

 “And if we don’t?”

 “Bulla…” Goten warned under his breath.

“And if you don’t, there may be one less accounted for during inventory,” the creature hissed, and this time his hand found its place on the handle of his weapon at his hip. “Do we need to discuss this further?”

Bulla was torn between arguing and self-preservation. However, it was Goten’s hand on her shoulder that made her falter to the latter, and she turned from the monster with a pout.

Satisfied, he smirked and gestured toward the door. “Let’s move, then.”

Both Saiyan hybrids shuffled forward, Goten protectively taking Bulla by the hand as they marched out of their cell with the guard at their heels. Outside the chamber was another alien soldier, this one shielded in a far heavier suit of armor, complete with a helmet and full face visor. Bulla could barely make out shiny, pink skin underneath. The two guards exchanged words in a language neither Bulla nor Goten could understand, before the second motioned them forward with his much larger weapon.

The smaller guard took the lead ahead of them, escorting them down a short corridor toward a larger portal. As they walked, Bulla noticed at least three other pairs of different species of aliens being steered out of cells, each accompanied by a pair of soldiers. She was disheartened to realize that none of them looked familiar, by face or by race, and she felt Goten squeeze her hand. When she glanced up at him, she found his features stony.

She often forgot about this other side of Goten; the one who was battle tested and prepared to meet danger head-on, the one who had faced monsters bent on destroying the world by the age of six. He hardly resembled the playful Son she knew so well. Bulla shifted her stance closer to him so that their arms were touching, feeling marginally safer with him at her side.

Their guards were the third set in line as they approached the larger portal leading into the main space station. Another uniformed alien stood at the entrance with a clipboard, checking off a list of each pair of captives. When Goten and Bulla found themselves at the head of the line, the soldier looked them over and commanded something in the same foreign language the others had spoken in before.

Their blue guard corrected him, and the soldier growled out in a low timbre, “Your bind numbers.”

Uncertain of his meaning, Bulla made to open her mouth and ask after it, but the blue guard grasped her arm and she yelped as he yanked her forward.

“Hey!” Goten pulled hard on her hand to draw her back up to his side and out of the blue creature’s reach. “Keep your hands off her,” he warned, and Bulla felt that tell-tale heat radiating from his palm.

The guard with the larger gun behind them pressed closer and brandished his weapon to level at Goten’s chin. Goten sucked a breath through his teeth, and Bulla clung to the front of his arm in fright.

“Present your bind numbers,” he gruffed and lowered the gun to gesture at the cuffs on their wrists.

Bulla lifted her left hand and turned her wrist over, remembering the red string of digits printed on the cuff. She raised her arm hesitantly, Goten mirroring with his right, and the check-in soldier referred between their numbers and his clipboard. He pushed a button on the wall behind him, and with a hiss, the portal opened, and their guards ushered them forward into the station proper.

The inside of the station was raucous with mechanical and electrical sounds all around, and Bulla didn’t think her neck could twist in all the directions she wanted it to. The clinical smell filtered around them was identical to the aroma from the cot linens in their cell, she realized with a grimace, though the scent was much more prominent here.

Aliens of different sizes passed by, some with cuffs similar to hers and Goten’s, others in uniforms like their guards. Clearly, this was a larger operation they had been inducted into, and that just furthered her uneasiness. Bulla remembered vividly what few stories she and Trunks had been permitted about their father’s past while working under the tyrant Frieza, and how there were galactic soldiers from his empire potentially still scattered across the galaxy. It all seemed like stories of the boogeyman, back then, but now it was all real and in living color.

Was this part of Frieza’s regime? What if they knew who she was? Was that why they were captured? Bulla shivered at the notion.

Abruptly, they halted outside of a chamber, and although it had a placard on the wall beside the entrance, it was in a print Bulla could not read. She made a mental note to try and figure out this language as soon as possible - no doubt it could benefit them.

“We are going to prepare for inventory,” the blue guard announced to the collection of captives assembled. “This process can be quick and painless, if you all shut up and comply with our orders.” There seemed to be a pointed look granted at Goten, and his fingers flexed around her hand again. “Any attempts to delay or detract from the process will be met with severe consequences. Consider this your only warning. 

All of them remained silent and, apparently satisfied, the guard pushed open the doors to the new room. Bulla’s flesh goosebumped upon entrance, and not simply from the chilly draft in the air. It was evident it was a laboratory of some sort that they had been led to, however the room was divided in half. In the front, there were four stations, each with an alien in a lab uniform. It didn’t take much to deduce that each station was meant for the captive pairs.

Yet the part that made Bulla the most leery was the large partition that separated the space into two. Whatever was going on behind the green sheet was not intended for this audience, if given the three heavily armed and armored guards standing on their side of the curtain. 

The two soldiers shepherded Goten and Bulla to the station at the far right, where a beautiful and exotic looking female alien stood. She had bright red, smooth skin, snake-slit eyes, and white hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Bulla felt Goten’s fingers loosen around her hand, and she shot him a scowl as he made no attempt to hide his sudden curiosity in the foreign woman. When he apparently missed her disdain, her elbow found his rib.

Goten cleared his throat and at least had the sense to look the other way.

“Welcome,” the woman offered in probably the kindest tone either had heard since their capture. “This is  _Nukhu Rak_. I’m Vatet, one of the lead scientists here.” She extended her hand to Bulla first, and Bulla found herself eyeing the woman’s manicure enviously, unable to bring herself to touch her hand.

Unperturbed, Vatet turned to Goten with a cunning smile, and he was quick to take her up on the handshake, dropping Bulla’s hand in the process. “I hope we can make your stay as accommodating as possible. 

“Our ‘stay’?” Bulla scoffed, clearly dubious, and folded her arms. “Is that what you call ‘kidnapping’ here? 

Vatet snickered and bowed her head. “Perhaps a poor choice of words on my part. Let’s start again. What do they call you, on your planet?”

“…Bulla,” Bulla grumbled.

“Goten,” Goten provided with little else prompting. “So, uh, how long should we anticipate … staying, then? 

At this, Vatet and the two soldiers shared a chuckle, and the scientist rounded her small cart to collect a grey and blue hand-held device that was reminiscent of a temporal thermometer. She pressed a couple of buttons on the front panel as she approached Goten, taking his hand without preamble to scan the red line of numbers on his cuff.

“Your stay is a permanent arrangement, I’m afraid,” Vatet coolly responded, and Goten jerked from her grasp. While the guards tensed at his brusque gesture, the woman remained unfazed, reaching then for Bulla’s cuff to scan her as well. The device chirped twice and flashed green, and Vatet nodded her satisfaction. “At least, until our work is done or you expire.”

“‘Expire’?”

“She means, ‘die’,” Bulla translated for Goten sourly, her stomach in knots over having to say it out loud.

Goten went rigid and Vatet shrugged nonchalantly as she replaced the device and retrieved a tiny syringe from the cart. “Correct,” she affirmed. “But if you can commit to your duties, it is likely that won’t occur for a very long time. Now, I’m assuming this,” she motioned toward Bulla with the syringe, looking toward the guards, “is the bitch, yes?”

“EXCUSE ME?!” Bulla twisted furiously toward the scientist, her fist already cocked, as Goten hollered in surprise behind her.

“Watch it!” The heavily armored guard threatened. Goten snatched her arm from the air and pulled her back toward him, shushing the top of her head in an attempt to quell her rage.

“You are the female, are you not?” Vatet condescended with a squint at Bulla’s figure, as though reassessing her initial judgement.

“I– yes,” Bulla bit through grit teeth.

“Then the ‘bitch’,” Vatet smiled placidly, then nodded at the guards. “Present her forearm, please; I can see she’s a feisty one, and I don’t want to damage a specimen.”

Bulla gasped as the blue guard encroached on her, and she saw Goten move out of the corner of her eye. However, the massive pink soldier lifted his weapon again - this time, aiming at Bulla’s temple.

Goten immediately froze, his eyes huge at the implication.

“Oh, now, now,” Vatet clucked and waved toward the soldiers, and the pink one lowered his gun from Bulla’s peripheral off her scolding. “There’s no need for all that. Aren’t you guys supposed to deescalate a hostile situation?”

“What are you doing with her?” Goten growled. “You’d better not hurt her.”

Bulla flushed at his concern, and Vatet cooed. “Aww, that’s cute. Do you both know each other?”

The two hybrids exchanged a furtive glance, unsure of whether to reveal too much about themselves.

“…Yes,” Bulla offered at last, still hesitant. “We do. 

She had barely noticed as Vatet’s velvet palm wrapped around her elbow, and Bulla hissed as she was pricked with the needle. Bulla sensed Goten tense by her side, but she tried not to move under Vatet’s ministrations. The woman drew her blood back out into the syringe, before withdrawing it completely.

Vatet walked back over to a compact computer system on the desk by the wall. “This is just a starting sample, to find our baseline with you,” she commented, almost bored, as she dropped some of Bulla’s blood on to a petri dish. Vatet fed the dish into a slot in the computer, which made a few beeping sounds and printed out something on the other side in response.

The scientist hummed to herself, before peering intently at the screen. “…Half Saiyan?” Vatet frowned over at Bulla, then glowered daggers at the soldiers. “Pajeth, what is this?”

“She was the only female we could find,” the blue guard spoke up. “We have scoured the galaxy far and wide, and there is only this specimen and one other further diluted female with Saiyan genetic composition. We are certain.”

Vatet shook her head and scrolled through the computer’s readings, grousing, “Well, I don’t know what Ku'am is going to say about that…” She made a contemplative noise in the back of her throat, her eyebrows arching as she read along. “At least she’s relatively young and untouched,” she noted with an appreciative glance raked over Bulla’s figure. “No priors to influence output. That’s a positive.”

The blush still coloring Bulla’s cheeks from her earlier outburst blossomed into crimson. There was something hidden in their conversation that she couldn’t quite put her finger on that made her wholly uncomfortable.

Grabbing another syringe, Vatet rounded on Goten. She gave him a questioning look, as though inviting him to make a complaint, but after a beat he surrendered his arm to her. She followed his compliance, retrieving a sample as she had with Bulla and setting it into the computer for examination.

This time, after the beeps and print out, Vatet swore aloud.

“Another half-breed?” She whipped angrily around on Pajeth. “What am I supposed to do with this?! I know for a fact there were purebreds–”

“The only remaining purebred was of relation,” Pajeth attempted to disclose quietly. “To the female specimen.”

With that, something clicked.

Dread washed over Bulla, and her knees went weak.

“These two aren’t related, then?”

“No, check the read–”

“What is this place?” Bulla’s voice trembled up. “What exactly are we here for?”

The guards and Vatet stilled, although the scientist managed a smirk quite easily.

“Well… to put it simply, we are a private galactic conservationist organization,” Vatet spoke after a moment’s pause. “Our mission is to try to protect endangered or near-extinct species, by collecting specimens - such as yourselves - and running tests on preservation techniques, evaluating evolutionary tendencies, and encouraging procreation so that each species may, eventually, find its place back in the universe.”

Bulla was rooted to the spot throughout the explanation, her skin flushing from head to toe and her heart beating fiercely as deeper realization set in. She felt positively naked now, tears springing anew upon her lashes as she fought a sudden surge of vomit swirling in her stomach.

“…Wait, what?” Goten began to catch up, just a few seconds later, his hand scratching at the bank of his neck. “What are you trying to say? 

“Y-you can’t do that!” Bulla cried. “We’re not some… some… animals!”

“Well, technically, you are,” Vatet smiled without teeth. “Intelligent animals, yes, so that may prove challenging. But no less an animal than Pajeth, Qedes, or myself. The only difference,” she motioned between the group, “is that our races aren’t extinct, which we ourselves owe to the Galactic Conservation Institute - this organization. 

Bulla’s mouth hung agape as she stared dumbly at the group of aliens, and she was unable to repress the tears pouring down her cheeks now. Goten looked between her and the group, and dawning panic wrote across his features. He started to shake his head vehemently, mouth moving before any words actually began, seemingly unable to conjure dialogue straight-away.

“N-no, no, no way,” he muttered in disbelief. “That’s– You can’t force us–” 

Vatet laughed and nodded, her arms crossing tightly under her bust. “Well, I mean, we could and may,” she asserted. “But certainly we have other ways of harvesting genetic material from you. Either of you,” she added with a tilt of her head to Bulla, who recoiled. “Believe me, oftentimes that’s the easier route. Unfortunately, the best results for species rehabilitation typically stems from standard breeding, particularly in cases of mammalian reproduction.”

“You’re monsters,” Goten growled and reached out a protective arm toward Bulla, crowding her closer toward his side. She tucked herself against him with a sob and tried to bury herself into his chest.

“No,” Vatet corrected, a hint of scorn in her tone. “I think you misunderstand us. Our goal is to make a stronger, more resilient universe. But that’s enough; I’ll be having about seven more arguments of this nature this week, and I’d rather not exhaust myself so soon.” Her boots clicked along the tile as the group fell silent, spare Bulla’s whimpering, and Vatet typed something into the computer.

Another strip of paper printed out, which she ripped from the tray, presenting it to Pajeth. “They’re to go to Containment Unit 5447, Homing Room A. Keep the binds on them both. Their species is presumed lethal.”

“”Lethal’ how?” Pajeth took the paper with a smirk as though disbelieving.

“Like how ‘bout I should kick your ass and show ya, you blue prick?” Goten spat at the guard’s feet, already drawing up a fist.

The guards erupted into boisterous laughter, and even Vatet granted his threat a small giggle. She placed a hand on Goten’s forearm, and he quickly pulled back from her touch.

“I’m not sure if the guards went over this with you or not: those binds are just as much a  protection for you as it is for our staff,” Vatet pointed at the bands both donned. “Your binds are outfitted with sensors to track your biometric readings for study, in addition to suppressing any sort of … latent or hidden ‘abnormalities’ that specimens may be capable of utilizing while under our care.”

“So y-you’ve muzzled us?” Bulla finally hiccuped as she pulled away from Goten to dry her face, her bright blue eyes incensed. “Y-you cowards.”  

“Some specimens require … assistance in cooperation,” Vatet continued with a smile, and Bulla wanted nothing more than to take a swing at her pretty face. “Your inventory has been completed. Pajeth and Qedes will lead you both to your homing room. If any of the amenities are found lacking, please, be sure to let them know. I’d like to thank you both for your participation. You are doing the galaxy a great service.”

“Get fucked,” Goten growled back at Vatet through gnashed teeth as Qedes, the larger soldier, tapped his shoulder with the gun to get them moving toward the exit.

Vatet winked in return and waggled a finger as both Saiyan half-breeds were led from the lab, calling after them, “That’s more of your interest than mine, Saiyan. See you both in a few days for check-up!”

 

///

 

They sat together in uneasy silence once they had been deposited into their ‘homing room’. Neither had dared to investigate their quarters further, both still shell-shocked from the revelation regarding their capture.

Bulla sat with her knees locked together, hands fisted in her lap, as she stared at the wall across from her. The tears had yet to stop trickling down her cheeks, although the flow had begun to taper. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Goten, still overcome with horror at the idea of what was expected of them by their captors.

Eventually, his voice came thickly from the chair to her right. “I won’t do that. I won’t, Bulla.”

Her name sounded like broken glass coming from his mouth, and she shut her eyes tighter to try to stem her crying. She heard him rise from the chair to come take a place by her side, and her body shook in the effort to restrain the sobbing that longed to draw from her chest. Tentatively, his arm circled her shoulders, inviting her against the wall of his torso, and eventually she caved and curled into his side with a soft wail.

After a few moments of her broken crying, she withdrew from him and looked up to find him staring hard at the floor. She thought she could make out the glistening of tears fresh in his own eyes, but she dared not question him after it.

“Goten, what are we going to do?” She sniffed and bowed head. “We– we need to get out of here. We can’t stay here.”

“I know, I know,” he huffed. “I’m trying to think.”

“Those guards have weapons,” she whispered, sure that they were being monitored somehow in this den, but hoping they weren’t. “If we could–”

“Yeah, I thought that too. But it’s these things,” he lifted his wrist, “that are the real fucker here. D’you think you could figure out how to get them off? A little Briefs magic?”

Bulla bit her lip and looked down at her cuffs. “I’ve been wondering… but I’m just afraid there’s more to them than everything Vatet said…”

“Like what?”

She shrugged and pulled a face. “Like a tampering fail-safe? She said there’s sensors in here; I’m sure they can tell when the cuffs have been disengaged.”

Goten groaned and leaned back on the firm couch, his eyes shut tight as he bounced his head against the back. “Dammit,” he cursed at the ceiling. “There’s gotta be a way–”

“I’m not touching them,” Bulla shook her head. “Not until I’ve gotten a better look at them. I’m not risking getting us caught like that. Who knows what they’d do to us then?” 

“When do, uh–” Goten faltered, then glanced away with a sudden bright redness spreading across his cheeks.

“When do, what?”

“When, uhm,” he began, his voice shaking just a bit as he made the effort to push the words out, “When do you think… they’ll try to get us…” Goten trailed off, unable to complete the thought though he didn’t need to. Bulla understood with perfect clarity what he was trying to ask of her.

She wrapped her arms around herself protectively and hunched over, once again feeling nauseous and naked. “I don’t know… Vatet said she’d see us in a couple of days, didn’t she?”

“Bulla, I can’t do… that, to you,” he tripped over the words, obviously pained to voice them. “There’s no way they can make me touch you like that.”

Bulla offered Goten a timid, hopefully comforting smile, although her inside were shaking with nerves. “I know, Goten,” she spoke softly and thought about putting her hand over his, but reconsidered. She curled her fingers into her palm instead. “Let’s just… try not to think about it right now, okay?”

He nodded, mute, and they both lapsed into another uncomfortable silence once more. Neither wanted to put further voice to the horror unfolding before them, yet neither was unable to shake it from their thoughts entirely.


	3. chapter 3 (unthinkable)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vegeta, Bulma, and Trunks interrogate their own captive. Bulla and Goten get more familiar with their living quarters and each other.

7 hours.

420 minutes.

25,200 seconds.

And every single second that passed since then continued to heighten her panic, her rage, and her heartache as her brain only conjured the worst case scenarios of what could have become of her only daughter and the boy who might as well have been her second son.

Bulma liked to think that years and years of recklessly throwing herself into dangerous adventures, stopping alien invasions and monsters bent on universal domination, etcetera, etcetera had made her more than prepared for a situation like this. Yet as she sat waiting, anxious and uncertain, in her lounge, she realized that all the consequent years of peace had lulled her into a false state of comfort and had whittled off some of her edge.

...But only some.

The lounge door creaked apart, and Trunks strode through, pace brisk enough that it roused her from her own seat.

"Well?" She gasped.

He nodded. "He's awake."

Bulma's heart leapt into her throat.

"Good."

She followed as Trunks turned on his heel back out of the lounge, taking a few longer strides to keep up with his long gait.

"He's only just coming out of it, but we have him in the GR - just in case," Trunks told her as they turned out of the living quarters wing of the compound.

"And your father?"

Trunks shrugged. "He says he's never seen the guy, but the armor looks familiar."

"I'm sure it does," Bulma growled and slapped her palm on the scanner on the wall. The detector read her hand, beeped and flickered, before the doors hissed open.

The two continued in silence as they followed the corridor around to the gravity chamber. Trunks typed the code into the pad, allowing both entrance, and Bulma felt that old rush of adrenaline spike within her like right before she chose to do something terribly stupid.

There was a giant slab from her laboratory smack in the middle of the chamber. On it lay a round, green, froggy-looking, four-eyed soldier decked in armor that unfortunately did look quite familiar. His squat form was bound to the table by titanium cuffs on each appendage, spare what remained of his left leg which was haphazardly wrapped in crimson-soaked bandages. The restraints were an old invention of her's, back when they needed backup plans and actual weapons to help fight their battles, all but long since forgotten… until now.

The soldier was moaning, a weak croaking sound, his head rocking side to side as consciousness crept in. She glanced down at the remnants of his unbound leg.

Bulma may have been a little rusty at all this, but damn if she wasn't still one hell of a shot.

"...Good afternoon!" Bulma crowed, obnoxiously loud, as she rounded the foot of the slab, waking their guest further.

"Wh-what…" the soldier stammered and his breath began to come quicker and shorter, his pot-belly quaking with each pull. "What the hell is this?!" His forearms tugged hard against his binds, and he tried to pull the same with his leg. "Where am I?! What have you done to me?!"

Bulma tilted her head in feigned ignorance. "I'm sorry, what do you mean? You don't know where you are?"

The soldier froze as he stared up at her, and clearly the weight of the situation was beginning to dawn on him, recollection putting the unfortunate pieces back together for him.

"... I …"

"Well then! Since your memory seems to be lacking, let me help you out! You and your friends invited yourselves into my home!" Bulma recalled on his behalf, buoyant albeit utterly absent of joy. "In a manner of speaking, if given the giant hole in my roof and my fried security system, anyway. Then you gassed my children and kidnapped two of them!"

She leaned over his torso, her arms crossed over chest, and preened down at his struggling, pale face. "That's the CliffsNotes, but how am I doing so far?"

"Uh.. un-unless you know what's good for you-"

"Oh, man,  _please_  threaten her," Trunks called from over her shoulder, and the soldier's features pulled exaggeratedly in fear. He began trembling head to toe at the sound of Trunks' cracking knuckles outside of his peripheral. "No, really. Keep going."

"Listen, I- I- I was only following orders-" The soldier babbled on, but Bulma clucked her tongue disapprovingly to silence him.

" _Obviously_ , as if  _you_  could do it alone," she patted his shoulder, and the soldier tried to shrink away from her touch. "But you know that's not what I'm looking for."

The frogman shook his head, beads of sweat dripping down from his temple to the slab under his back. "My- my comrades will-"

"Yeah, what about 'em?" Trunks approached from the left, his very presence menacing the soldier almost literally down into the table. "What're they gonna do? Come back for you?" He leaned down into the soldier's personal space with a cold glower entirely too reminiscent of his father. It would've chilled Bulma to the core, if he wasn't her baby boy. "Do you promise?"

As satisfying as it was to watch her son scare the actual piss out of him, there was more they needed to acquire from their captive, and she couldn't have him go mute on them. "We'll get to all that, Trunks," Bulma waved off her son, who reluctantly pulled back from the soldier's side. "Besides, we've got some time to kill with a little conversation, I think."

Her word choice wasn't at all accidental, Froggy seemed to understand with a quiver of his jaw.

"Where are my children?" Bulma asked of him as pleasantly as possible as she withdrew a small black remote with two buttons - orange and blue - from her lab coat pocket.

He hesitated, eyes darting between her face and the remote, before the soldier turned from her entirely.

"Mom, want me to ask him?" Trunks offered a little too hopefully.

"No, no," Bulma sighed. "I need him to be able to speak, sweetie." She glared down at the green man, holding up her index finger as she told him, "I'll give you another chance: where are my children?"

When the soldier provided nothing, Bulma shrugged and twirled the remote between her fingers. "I see… well, you know, I'm usually a pretty lenient woman-" she scowled off Trunks' amused cough behind her. "But when it comes to my children, I'll do what needs to be done. Do you see this?"

Bulma held up the remote for the soldier to inspect closer, and he granted her a marginal nod of his head. "This controls those," she pointed at his restraints. "It has the power to pump about 2,000 volts at 3 amps through each point of contact … or, alternatively, I could release you."

Her audience was listening closely, eyes bulging at her implied threat, and he swallowed heavily.

"So, my proposition to you now is that you either tell me where my children are and why you've taken them, and then we can maybe possibly talk about letting you go, or I can just -  _bzzt!_ \- zap it out of ya!" Bulma's voice was nearly a whisper now as she winked and wiggled the remote above his face. "What's it going to be, buddy?"

"...I don't believe you," the soldier's voice wavered.

Bulma squinted. "Should we find out?"

As she began to shift the remote in her palm, the soldier made a high strangled noise in his throat and arched away, terrified by something behind her. Concerned that Trunks was intervening again, Bulma turned with a reprimand ready, though her expression softened when she found her husband approaching her side. His gloved hand cupped her shoulder, and for a moment her righteous anger withered back into the heartbreak of loss when she met his gaze.

"Don't waste your time, Bulma," Vegeta told her teresely, his black eyes unwavering on her own blue. "You have more important things you should be working on."

"Vegeta, we need to know-"

"I'll handle it," he said as he gently pushed her away from the table. Vegeta then turned his palm out for the remote, which Bulma held close to her chest. "Give me the device, and go do something more useful."

It was a standoff, as it often turned out between them. Bulma wanted desperately to press the button out of spite, but her husband's intense stare spoke volumes. There was likely nothing she could do to the soldier that Vegeta couldn't deliver ten-fold or more, and he wasn't wrong. She had to prepare a space-worthy vessel before the end of day, if they had any hope of finding their stolen two.

" _Bulma_ ," he iterated, brow furrowed, her name heavy with intent.

She grit her teeth and looked away as she shoved the remote forward into his hand.

" _Fine_ , but you had better find out where they are, Vegeta," she hissed before storming back toward the door.

"I thought you were pretty scary, Mom!" Trunks called after her, though she knew deep down he'd get far more enjoyment out of an interrogation with his father than with her.

The portal shut behind her, and Vegeta rounded on the awfully meek looking soldier. He methodically looked him over, sneering at the all-too-familiar garb, memories of old springing forth at the sight. The piddly creature must've been from the same species as Guldo, and that fact alone filled Vegeta with yet another assortment of reason to bring untold pain upon this invader of his home.

He hovered a hand above the soldier's mangled leg and glanced over his shoulder to his son.

"Was this you?"

Trunks shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, an amused smile quirking his lips as he answered, "Mom."

Vegeta suppressed a smirk. He finally met the soldier's frightened eyes and an ancient predatorial tingle rippled down his spine as the scent of fear permeated his senses.

"Tell me," he began evenly. "Do you know who I am?"

It was a second, maybe a beat longer, before the soldier nodded slowly. Vegeta's lips thinned into a narrow line.

"And did you know the identity of the girl you took before arriving here?"

This response took longer than the first, and Vegeta let his hand finally rest where the soldier's knee used to be. The creature gasped and flinched, although Vegeta made no further movement.

"I'm going to assume from your silence that you knew exactly who she was and still you took her. Which, as I'm sure you're beginning to realize, is going to cause you a lot of problems now." His voice rumbled out in a low, deliberate timbre, and as he spoke Vegeta intensified his grip on what remained of the soldier's limb. As his fingers clenched, the frogman cried out sharply, trying to twist out of reach - but to no avail.

"I know your kind," Vegeta continued almost casually, as though oblivious to his cries. "Pathetic wastes clinging on to who or whatever can offer them the most protection. But I can assure you, the individual with whom you've aligned yourself is no more safer than you are at this moment." There was a loud  _crunch!_  and the soldier howled, garbled pleading spilling from his mouth as Vegeta dug his fingers into him.

Trunks grimaced from the corner as Vegeta all but crumbled what remained of the small alien's leg in his hand with about as much effort as he'd need to open a jar of pickles. Unfazed by his son's discomfort, Vegeta hummed, a snarl curling along his mouth, as he lit energy into his other hand and lifted it into the soldier's line of vision.

"You _will_ die here," he informed the soldier and shook his other hand free of blood and fleshy debris, ignoring the whimpering of his captive as the blue ball in his palm grew in size. "Make no mistake. You took my daughter, and that is unforgivable. But how quickly that death will come depends on your cooperation."

The large blue orb suddenly blinked into a faint purple blip on the tip of his index finger. Slowly, Vegeta lowered his glowing finger toward the soldier's chest plate. As he pressed the flickering purple energy closer, the armor began to splinter apart under its force.

"Please, please!" The soldier begged as he desperately writhed on the table. "I'll tell you whatever you want, please-"

"Where is my daughter?" Vegeta queried and paused his finger above the small hole he had begun to break into the armor.

"And Goten," Trunks added in aside. Vegeta rolled his eyes, refusing to acknowledge the point.

The frogman was panting, his back drawn upwards from Vegeta's encroaching digit, eyes wild. "W-w-we took them-"

"Where?" His finger continued its descent, a loud cracking sound accompanying the fracturing chest plate.

" _N-Nukhu Rak_! It's- ah!  _Ahh_!" The soldier yelped and thrashed as the pressure on his chest intensified and Vegeta leaned into him. "I-It's a research facility! In Quadrant 25-B-X-9! Please, please stop!"

His short cries dissolved into blatant screams as Vegeta's finger pushed deeper into his chest, the smell of melted armor and burning flesh emanating throughout the chamber.

"From whom do you take your orders?"

"Co-Co-" The frogman started sputtering blood as he choked out the words. "Commander Ku'am! He oversees the Galactic Conservation Institute! Please, please, that's it! That's all I have!"

The begging went unanswered, as Vegeta drilled his finger further at an excruciating rate. Trunks shifted an uneasy step toward his father. "Dad…"

A neon blue filter illuminated the room as the terrified screaming reached a fever pitch, but Vegeta did not falter. Dark, onyx eyes fastened deadly on the twisted features of the alien as the Saiyan pushed in and the purple light began to expand, glowing hotter and brighter-

"VEGETA! That's enough!" Bulma's voice echoed around him, and immediately Vegeta stilled, all violet brilliance dissipating at once.

The soldier lay prone, wheezing, his entire body shaking in a mixture of agony and relief. Vegeta glared from under furrowed eyebrows at his wife's stern, pixelated features floating in the air of above him as he retracted his finger from the hole he had created in the frogman's breast.

"Woman, I told you-"

" _No_ ," Bulma's voice cut across his own firmly, and his brow twitched in annoyance. "I don't know if you remember this, but I have a very strict 'no murdering' policy here!"

"Then what do you propose we do?!" He barked up at her and fought the urge to crush the alien's skull in just for the hell of pissing her off anyway.

"I've called someone to help take care of it! We got what we wanted," she told him with an airy wave of her hand. "Leave him there and meet me in the lab - both of you," she added with a glance back at Trunks, before her screen blipped off and the room was no longer bathed in blue.

The few moments that passed thereafter were filled only with the gasping breath of their captive. Vegeta finally turned to him, expression tight with bottled fury, as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

"Consider yourself lucky," he eventually growled between his teeth. "My wife is far more merciful than I."

Vegeta removed both of his bloodied gloves and threw them on to the creature's stomach. Placing both hands on the edges of the table on either side of the soldier's body, he bent over his twitching form, and continued quietly, "But I will tell you this: if any harm comes to my daughter, I will hold you just as responsible as every other piss-ant I find along the way."

He punctuated his threat with a harsh spit into the soldier's face. There was so much more he could do here, a proper act of revenge, and it took every ounce of willpower to walk away from the opportunity. He fought hard against the instincts warring inside, but inevitably Vegeta shoved himself away from the table with a snarl.

"You heard your mother," he grumbled as he passed Trunks, not bothering to pause, certain if he did he would go headlong against the woman's wishes. "Leave the meatbag here and let's go."

Heeding his father with little hesitation, Trunks traced his steps back out of the chamber. He stopped at the door, sparing one last look at the still body of the brutalized soldier, before setting the lock code for the door to bolt shut behind him.

/*/

Goten rolled his neck around along the back of the chair and blinked up at the dim ceiling. He'd been awake for a few minutes already, yet he hadn't quite worked up the energy to move. His body - still sore from everything else they'd been through so far - tensed with the added ache of sleeping uncomfortably in the miniscule armchair. Not exactly ideal, but since Bulla had fallen asleep on the couch a few hours prior, he couldn't bear to leave her alone there, the protective streak he had developed since their capture taking forefront of his decision-making, it seemed.

He peeked over at her now, finding her back facing him and her chest rising and falling delicately in sleep. Her aqua tresses were tucked around her shoulders and appeared dull in the dingy light of their quarters, lacking their usual brilliant sheen. She appeared somehow smaller than he had always remembered her, but perhaps that was just given their situation; he felt pretty small here, too.

A chill ran down his spine as he relived the encounter in the lab. If he was being honest with himself, he was still a stunned by it all. His brain was working overtime trying to compute what it was these people were expecting of them, trying to put the puzzle pieces of he and Bulla together like …  _that_.

Blushing, he stole another look at her recumbent figure. Goten had never in his wildest dreams - awake or asleep - imagined Bulla in that regard. They had always been pretty close, not quite brother-and-sister but somewhere near there. Trunks and Bulla always had a tendency to bother one another (sometimes intentionally and sometimes not) and Goten often found himself playing devil's advocate between them. But Bulla was always adorable when she was little, he recalled with a faint smile, and Goten never minded her presence as much as her brother, finding her endearing rather than as the pest Trunks frequently made her out to be.

But had he noticed her physically at all, as an adult? He didn't think he had ever looked or thought about her that way in his life. Curiously, Goten's eyes wandered over her curves as he considered it. She wasn't shapely, but she wasn't too tiny either - her fit build was likely due to Saiyan genetics as he knew she didn't keep up quite the same training regimen that he and Trunks tended to. He supposed she was certainly attractive, he mused idly, as his gaze drifted down to the round of her backside.

Bulla cleared her throat and rolled over onto her back, and he glanced up to her features, her face set gently in slumber. She was definitely pretty, he concluded - but the Briefs were all a pretty good looking bunch, weren't they? And he thought maybe if he dissociated enough from their childhood together, then Goten probably would-

His train of thought completely derailed and his face grew hot. What the hell was he doing? A wave of how wrong this all was washed over him anew, turning his insides over with magma-like guilt. There was no way, and this wasn't right, and maybe they had a cold shower here-

"Goten?" Bulla murmured dazedly, and he swallowed hard as he turned to face her. She dragged herself up from the cushions into a half-sitting position and rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes.

"Yeah, hey!" He started, a little louder than necessary, and off her grimace he quieted. "Heeey, you, uh, get a good nap, B?"

She nodded, though already she was alert, casting a wary look around her. "Yeah… how long was I asleep for?"

Goten shrugged. "I'm not sure; I fell asleep at some point, too."

They fell into a brief silence, before Goten ducked his head toward her. "You okay?"

Bulla didn't meet his gaze. "...Yeah, I guess."

It wasn't convincing, but he couldn't blame her. Goten glanced over his shoulder to the hallway opening behind him, then back at Bulla. "Well, do you want to explore a little bit?" Off her confused look, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "We have a whole 'homing room' we haven't looked down yet. Maybe there's a shower?" His eyes lit up. "A kitchen?"

At that, both of their stomachs roared. Bulla's eyes grew huge and her face turned a ridiculous shade of pink. Goten couldn't stop the chuckle that slipped out, and gradually Bulla's embarrassment melted as she joined him in a fit of giggles and wrapped her arms around her belly.

"Oh my godddd, I would love some food," she whined and squeezed her midriff tight, and Goten definitely didn't notice the fabric of her t-shirt ride up to reveal a sliver of pale skin. "I feel like my stomach's going to eat itself."

"Same," Goten bounced on his toes and wanted nothing more than to move move move. "So get up! Let's go!"

She didn't need much more than the promise of food, as Bulla jumped up from the couch and followed him down the hall. The walls and ceiling were all painted a dark navy, the floor beneath them black and near-reflective. As they walked, square sconces on the wall illuminated the way, revealing to them two doors on the left of the hall, two doors on the right, and a clear domed chute on the back wall with a black terminal mounted beside it. Both exchanged a curious look, before Goten took hold of the first door handle on the left.

"Behind door number one…" He drawled dramatically.

"Please, god, be food," Bulla breathed.

He folded the handle inward, and the door parted mechanically. On the other side was a modest bathroom, fitted with an odd grey box that Goten assumed was a commode, a medium-sized shower (that sounded almost as appealing as food…), and a sink and vanity. Bulla ducked under Goten's arm to inspect the vanity space, her hands ripping open the drawers as she desperately ransacked their contents. She pulled out a bottle of bubbly pink liquid and shook it, holding it up to the single light available above their heads.

"Soap?" Goten wondered.

Bulla shrugged and narrowed her eyes at the label. "I don't know... It's in that weird language we've been seeing all over the place."

"There's, uh, a weird language?" He felt stupid suddenly. He hadn't noticed any print anywhere - what had he missed that she hadn't?

Bulla smiled gently at him, and he was reminded why he frequently thought her to be nicer than her brother.

"Yeah, see?" She held the bottle out for him to take then turned to face the mirror. Goten rolled the bottle over in his hands, trying to find any discernible language on it, but he only found weird lines, shapes, and squiggles.

Bulla groaned and he looked up to find her leaning over the sink counter, closely inspecting her reflection in the mirror.

"Look at me! I'm a mess!" She bemoaned her appearance as she pulled at her hair, pressed her fingers under her eyes, and tilted her face from left to right. "What have these monsters done to me?"

"Oh, relax, you're still beautiful, Briefs," Goten's mouth went on autopilot without his awareness as he reopened the drawer she had been rummaging through. He missed her demure blush as he withdrew a couple of other bottles, each a different size and filled with a different color and consistency of liquid. "Geeze, what are all these for? They can't all possibly be for showering… right?"

Bulla scoffed and plucked a purple jar of goo from his hand. "Oh, please. I have more products than these at home…"

She trailed off sadly, and Goten recognized her melancholy at once. Trying to save the lighthearted mood, he threw the handful of toiletries back in the drawer, snatched the one from her hand and returned it, too.

"C'mon - we still need to find some food!" He grabbed her hand before she could say otherwise and pulled her back out of the bathroom into the hall. He marched two long strides to the door across from the bathroom and opened it in the same way, revealing a linen closet. There were several shelves with towels and what appeared to be enough uniformed clothing for the two of them.

As she made to grab one of the uniforms, Goten swatted her hand back down and shut the door in her face. "Later, Bulla! Food first!"

"But- I wanna see!" She whined, nevertheless succumbing to being pulled to the adjacent door. When he pushed it open, Bulla exhaled in relief and tugged on his arm, both nearly giddy at the sight of the humble kitchen.

Although neither necessarily recognized any of the appliances, they wasted little time and dove in headfirst. Bulla and Goten split to either side of the room to begin opening the cabinets and drawers, until finally Goten cackled her name in excitement at his find. She rushed to his side and squealed, and two pairs of hands reached in to greedily pull out boxes and bars from the compact pantry.

"Hey, look! It's those weird symbols again," Goten observed as he turned the otherwise nondescript boxes over in his hands. He gave the stack he had collected a shake and listened to their contents, his eyebrows knit together in concentration. "Hmmm.. I mean, it sounds like food?"

Bulla rolled her eyes and flipped over the shiny packaged bar in her hand to examine the printed symbols. "We really should figure this out. It could help us find a way out of here," she mused as her fingers deftly ripped open the wrapper. She wiggled the bar out of its wrapping, and her lips curled in suspicion. "I don't know… What do you think?"

Goten sniffed at the bar she presented up to him and shrugged a shoulder. "It probably beats starving, right?"

She nodded and brought it up to her mouth… but she hesitated. "Wait," she cautioned, as Goten dug a hand into one box of his armload. "What if it's all poisoned or something?"

"...Y'think?" It was one of the most heartbreaking ideas she could have possibly suggested. Goten looked down at his promising bounty and frowned in dismay. In his heart, she figured she was right. But in his stomach-heart... "Should… should we try it anyway?"

"Goten," Bulla chastised and threw the bar on to the counter as though burned by it. "Think about it. What if they wanted to drug us? To- to get us to..."

Goten whimpered and hugged his hoard close. "Please don't say mean things, B…"

She pointed to the pantry with a pained look. "I'm sorry, I don't want to think it, either... but we need to put it all back, until we're sure they're clear."

"But Bulla-!"

"Now!"

If he weren't a grown man and also kind of afraid of her, he'd probably stomp his foot and slam the door for good measure. But Goten followed her orders and tossed the boxes back into the pantry with testy grumble.

"What now, then?" He griped and set his hip against the counter. The rumbling in his belly sounded again, and Goten crossed his arms to stave it off. When was the last time he had eaten? It felt like months.

Bulla sighed and mirrored his stance, leaning upon the counter across from him, just as sullen as he at the disintegrating hope finding food had brought them.

"There … was one more room," she supplied slowly, though when they met each other's gaze, they both looked the other way bashfully. Goten knew as well as she what that last room was likely to be. Whether or not they wanted to address that elephant now or later was up for debate.

"...C'mon," she breathed and led the way back out to the hall. Goten granted the kitchen one last long, mournful stare before he followed her out again.

They both marched resolutely, side by side, down the short rest of the way and paused just outside the last portal. Bulla sucked in a brave breath and pushed the handle in, opening the bedroom to them. To Goten's chagrin, his suspicions - as he was sure were identical to Bulla's - were confirmed. In the middle of the quaint bedroom sat a single queen-sized bed. It was outfitted sparingly, with a rather plain looking blue blanket and the same thin white linens from their cell. There was nothing else in the chamber besides the bed and a horizontally fixed mirror on the right wall.

Goten was uneasy at once and something about the vibe in the room made him uncomfortable. He pointed at the mirror, uncertain,l. "What do you think is up with that?"

"I've seen enough movies to guess," Bulla groused as she approached it. She lifted her finger to tap at the reflective surface and drew a figure eight, leaving a smear and sneering disdainfully. "Something tells me it's not just for our own personal fun-"

Abruptly, she turned crimson and whipped around, shaking her head and hands, sputtering, "I mean, not that  _we'd_ \- or that  _I'd_ -"

The images that suggestion invoked within his mind's eye lit Goten down to his toes, but he played it off with a sheepish chuckle and scratched at the back of his head, looking anywhere but Bulla. "No, no! I didn't think-"

"I would  _never_ -"

"No, that's fine-"

"I mean, I have never even been...  _y'know_."

...Oh.

_Oh._

Goten stared at her in blatant … surprise? Disbelief? He only realized he was staring when it was almost too late, however. Bulla had begun stomping back out of the room, clearly indignant at his reaction, but he was quicker and caught her around the elbow.

"Wait, you've _never_?"

"What? Is that so hard to believe?" Bulla snapped and tugged, but he held fast. "What do you think of me?"

"No! No, not that- I'm sorry, I just…" Goten wasn't sure what he 'just'. He just assumed she had had sex before? But now he recalled Vatet's comment regarding Bulla's blood sample, it had been so off-hand at the time, and now it meant more. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to offend you."

When she jerked her arm again, he relinquished her, feeling very self-conscious about himself presently. Bulla folded in on herself again, her body half turned from him and obviously still displeased with the route of the conversation. "It's fine," she mumbled and tucked her hair behind her ear, clearly not altogether fine with the discussion. "I mean, you've met my dad. How many guys do you think are willing or even able to take that chance?"

Despite her snarky demeanor, Goten could tell it was a bit of a sore spot for her. He couldn't imagine many suitors were lining up to face Vegeta, and for a moment he felt a pang of pity for Bulla.

"Well, have you ever… done anything?" Wait,  _why_  was he perpetuating this conversation?! It was morbid curiosity creeping up on him now, and he willed his vision to stay trained on her from the head up.

Bulla's cheeks tinted deep red in the dark of the room, and he noticed her worrying her lower lip between her teeth. " _Yes_ ," she admitted. "I'm not a giant prude!"

Goten held his hands up to fend off her increasing ire. "I didn't think you were!"

"Then what did you think?"

Her fiery gaze made his stomach tumble nervously. Again, he was struck that he wasn't sure what impression he had of her sexually. If he hadn't before, he guessed he did now.

Eventually, he rolled his shoulders and braced himself and tried valiantly not to imagine her in any compromised scenarios. "I guess... I really didn't think anything about it, to be honest."

She seemed taken aback at that, and if he weren't mistaken even a little wounded. He opened his mouth to try and fix whatever he had broke, but Bulla snapped her mouth shut and fluttered out of the room. After a moment, Goten sank down on the edge of the bed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. This dialogue was teetering on the edge of something that made a part of him want to crawl out of himself, be a different person, travel anywhere but here.

Bulla shrieked from the living room, and at once Goten jumped up and sprinted after her, nearly running smack into her at the end of the hall. There by the entrance of their chamber stood a beetle-ish looking creature with two sets of massive arms, decked in the same suit of armor as the other soldiers on board. In between its lower set of arms, it brandished a large gun-like weapon.

Behind the giant pincers on its face, it clicked out, "Labs wants you washed and changed in short order for examination and interview."

"We already had inventory-" Goten started, but the alien  _click click clicked_ in agitation over him.

"Not inventory! Interview! And not you -  _her_ ," it pointed one of its free top arms toward Bulla. "You have one hour."

The beetle turned from them and scanned the wrist brace of his armor on the pad by the door, exiting and leaving both Saiyan hybrids gaping in its wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify - the scene in the beginning is set immediately after the captire, not necessarily in tandem with Bulla and Goten's experience. It won't be too long of a wait for the next chapter as I have already written most of it! Tell me... Do you guys prefer longer chapters with longer waits or shorter chapters with shorter waits? I hate it when fics drag on forever, but I also deeply appreciate a STORY.
> 
> Let me know your preference; asking for a friend! ;) Thank you all for your feedback! It really helps motivate me


	4. chapter 4 (anomaly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bulla examines her feelings for Goten, and Goten gets into it with a guard. As the AvengerZ assemble, Jaco informs Vegeta, Bulma, and co. who it is they're up against.

Goten could hear Bulla's breathing begin to quicken. His hand reached out to grab her forearm on reflex, he tugged, and she looked up at him with terrified eyes. His throat constricted; he didn't think he'd ever seen such overt fear on this girl's face in her entire life.

The sight pulsed that protective urge in his chest, and Goten ducked to meet her gaze dead on.

"You're not going alone," he vowed, keeping his voice low lest anyone be listening on the other side of the door. "Don't worry, Bulla."

"But… he said-" her voice cracked as panic edged in, and he coaxed her a step closer toward him to quiet her.

"Hey! I promise you. The only way they'll get you alone is if they kill me first." Of course that was an extreme, but truthfully the idea of anyone corralling Bulla solo made his ears burn and his temper flare. Goten was certain he'd do whatever necessary to prevent it - they were in this together, and he felt responsible for her safety.

Bulla stared blearily up at him, her jaw slack and to him it appeared like there was something on the tip of her tongue to say. But nothing came but a watery smile, as Bulla lifted herself up on tip-toe and slung her arm he wasn't holding to wrap firmly around his neck. Her embrace nearly caught him off-guard, his heart stuttering in his chest as his hand fell upon her lower back to steady her. In a nanosecond, his brain rapid-fired through every memory he shared with her and he didn't know when the last time was they had been this close.

"Thank you," she whispered, and her warm breath tickled the side of his neck. Before he could register the feeling, Bulla drew back and her heels touched the floor again. She glanced over to the door, then back up at him. "What should we do?"

Goten shook off the remaining apprehension her hug had stirred within him and his gears shifted hard into battle mode. "Let's just wait and see what he does when he comes back. If he makes a move, then so will I."

Whether or not she was convinced by him, Bulla nodded anyway and looked past him down the hall. "Okay… well, I think I'll at least take him up on the order for a shower and a change."

Goten pat her shoulder and tried not to be too envious of the idea. He was sure he probably smelled the worst he ever had in his life. He'd have to remember to thank Bulla for being so kind in not commenting on it later. They exchanged half-awkward smiles as she inched around him, and he watched her pad back down the hall into the bathroom.

Almost as soon as she had disappeared, however, her head popped back out.

"Goten!" She hissed, and he turned with an arched brow. Bulla stuck her arm out, pointing to the adjacent closet, and his mind misfired as he realized she was holding the door partially shut against herself because she must be-

"Hey, uh, what? Yeah?" He stammered over himself, not daring to look anywhere but the space just above her head. They were not this familiar, were they?

She pointed more forcefully and motioned with her head for emphasis. "A towel! Do they have any in there? Please?"

Her pretty flutter of lashes was entirely unnecessary as he would've done her the courtesy regardless, if even to bring this alarming situation to a quick end. Praying he wasn't glowing neon, Goten mechanically marched over to the linen closet and retrieved a towel for her, his arm jutting straight out as far as it could to deliver it into her waiting hands.

Bulla flashed him a brilliant smile and a wink as she took the cloth. "Thanks! I'll be fast!"

The door closed, and at least his amusement at her promise felt recognizable; Goten knew for a fact she'd use that whole hour and run the shower ice cold before she was done.

/*/

"You can get it done tonight?"

Bulma nodded as she rolled out a set of old schematics along her desk. Depicted on the discolored parchment were the outlines for the space vessel that they had built for Trunks, Goku, and Pan not all that long ago.

"Yes. We need to update a few of the mechanics and the power generator, but-"

"Then do it," Vegeta interrupted her impatiently. "All this talk is wasting valuable time."

Bulma's knee-jerk reaction was to serve her husband some sass in kind, but she recognized the thinly veiled worry in his words almost at once. So she took a breath and covered his hand with her own atop the blueprints, her fingers squeezing around his as reassuring as she could manage. He met her gaze and lingered there, before his knuckles arched up into her touch minutely.

It was the first time in years that real danger was at their door. Bulma had a hard time believing they wouldn't get their children back, but the longer they went missing, the more agitated Vegeta seemed to become, which only stoked her own anxiety.

"We'll get her back, Vegeta," Bulma told him carefully, her tone gentle as she hoped to tame her furious beast back down from that wild place of old, murderous tendencies.

He withdrew his hand from hers to fold his arms in his typical guarded stance and gave her his profile. Cutting her off.

"I know that," he muttered, brow stern, lips tight. "I don't need your empty platitudes, woman."

Bulma rolled her eyes and turned back to her schematics with a huff. So much for turning his attitude around.

"...But," he uttered after a moment, so softly, and Bulma was almost surprised to hear him speak further on the matter. "If we don't find them soon, our chances of doing so grow less likely by the minute."

His voice sounded far away, and she realized as she turned to regard him completely that all of this had likely been an unwelcome reminder of the past. The past forgotten and buried beneath their years together and all they had worked to build in its stead.

Or, she thought guiltily, maybe it was just the past she had forgotten.

A pang of pity struck her and Bulma swallowed against the feeling.

"Don't be stupid," she chastised him in an attempt pto play cool. "They're going to be fine. Bulla can handle herself, and with Goten-"

"What makes you think they're still together?" Vegeta growled and Bulma flinched away from the sound. "And even if they are, there are plenty of other means of curbing their resistance."

His tone was assured enough to indicate first-hand knowledge, and Bulma shuddered at the idea of her daughter rendered unable to defend herself from unknown predators.

"Wait, what kind of means?" Trunks asked after a long moment, and Bulma wished he hadn't, given the cold stare Vegeta leveled him with at that.

"...The kind that keeps you in your place."

His response came resolute and dark, the weight of it echoed in the quiet lab, and silence beat between the three of them for a long pause.

On a hard pivot, Vegeta stormed from the lab without another word.

"Should I go after him?" Trunks turned to his mother with worry creased between his brows.

"...No, I don't think so," Bulma breathed out, shaky and hoping she hid it well enough, concentrating on anything but that last stony look in her husband's eyes. "Trunks, listen. I need you to help me finish updating this so he can get going and bring them home."

"What about-" Trunks began.

Her phone on the edge of her desk started to chirrup loudly, cutting Trunks off and Bulma snatched it with one hand while pointing to the schematics with the other. "Go get me a core compressor from Bay 12 and a few of the new S-C 45 torque strut mounts in Bay 4," she told her son, who jogged out off her command, then turned her mouth to the receiver of her phone. "Hey! Tell me you can help?"

/*/

The water ran cold a lot sooner than Bulla was used to. Her fingers were just rinsing the last bubbles from her long blue locks when the temperature began its steady descent. Once cool flows breached the stream, she turned the tap off and grudgingly stepped out of the shower stall, drying herself with the cloth Goten had supplied her.

The cuffs, she noted with a frown as she gave each a once over, had been seemingly waterproof. She had been hoping maybe they'd get fried, but no such luck - it was a naive assumption on her part.

Bulla stepped over to the mirror and tried to make out her reflection through the fogged glass as she rubbed at her hair and scalp with the towel. Her eyes traced over her nude figure in idle self-assessment. Even while pallid in complexion from stress and sleep deprivation, she had to give it up for her genetic pool; Bulla still thought she looked like a 20 on a scale of 1 to 10.

Not for the first time since their capture did her thoughts stray to what her co-captive perhaps thought of her. Their current situation had Bulla begrudgingly re-examining their history and contemplating the future - imminent and otherwise.

For a large portion of her youth, she would admit, Bulla had privately adored him. As a child, she had found Goten cute and fun and silly and inclusive and helpful - everything her bratty brother hadn't been. His smile positively warmed her from the belly up. But as she aged, he had never given any indication that he was ever interested in her physically, despite some failed juvenile attempts to pique his interest on her part, she recalled with mild embarrassment.

It had been a brief blow to her ego at the time, resulting in Bulla banishing her school girl infatuation from all consideration, storing any corresponding thoughts and feelings away to the deepest recesses of her mind. Reflexive butterflies associated with his presence were trapped in glass jars and shelved, indefinitely, and she maintained a polite friendship with the boy of her childhood daydreams.

That's where Bulla had always intended to keep their relationship. Yet now here they were, assumed by their captors to become the essential Adam and Eve of the long dead Saiyan race.

Over my dead body, she could hear her father say.

Her heart ached with longing as she pictured her father then, his smug and loving face flourishing vividly in her mind. Bulla missed her family with all of her being, and she fought hard to keep the tears from falling now as she imagined how worried they all likely were.

She knew without a doubt that her family would find a way to get to her. Yes, they would get out of this, one way or another. They just needed to find an opening somewhere while they waited for help to arrive. With a parting reassured nod at her reflection, Bulla wrapped the towel firmly around her lithe form and stepped into the hall, but she squeaked as her wet shoulder clipped Goten's just outside the door.

He whirled around and she sidled back a few paces to give space between them, and at once his cheeks turned pink as he took in her state of undress.

Bulla's hand leapt to the fold of the towel at her breast, holding it secure, self-conscious off his staring. "What are you doing out here?!"

With a moment spared almost too long on her bare thighs, Goten blushed a furious shade of red - nearly purple - and might've snapped his neck at how swiftly he looked the other way.

Clearing his throat, he managed thickly, "I was - uh - I mean, I was waiting for you-"

Her eyebrows rose in confusion, and indignance began to bubble up. "And why exactly were you waiting for me?"

"In case that bug guy came back! I swear!"

His words rang true to her, the pleading in his eyes clear from where she stood across from him. Bulla knew Goten's moral compass never strayed from north - only typical of a boy with the name Son.

And suddenly there they were again, those long forgotten butterflies, fervent and tickling her insides. She tightened her hold on the towel, tamping down the fluttering and the flush ng her skin.

"Well ... isn't that gentlemanly of you?"

"Bulla, I swear-"

"Goten, stop," she smirked as she strode past him to the linen closet where the uniforms they had found earlier lay neatly folded. She picked between the set of four uniforms a dark grey jumpsuit, unfolding it with a disdainful look while willfully ignoring his jittering in her peripheral. "I'm just giving you a hard time. I know you're not some peeping perv like Roshi!"

His exhausted relief was palpable even from where she stood. Yes, Bulla snorted and felt around on the clothing shelf for a familiar scrap, she was a merciful woman like her mother.

"Hmm, ohh!" Bulla gasped, urgent now as she began to peek between the shelves. She prayed there was a mistake made, though as each shelf was found empty of what she was searching for, her stomach plummeted to the floor.

"What is it?"

"There's… there's no underwear in here!"

"...What?" Goten choked.

Before he could join her search, the doors hissed apart. The beetle soldier intruded at an hour prompt, as promised. Bulla sucked in a breath and drew the uniform up close to her body, willing all of her senses not to shiver upon facing opposition with the upperhand - advice from her father long committed to memory.

"Your hour is up. We go now."

"She's not finished," Goten spoke sternly at the guard, and his weight shifted imperceptibly in front of her.

The beetle click click clicked and seemed to grin, sharp and mean, behind its pincers. "Not a big deal - she will do as is."

Bug-like eyes too far set apart danced over the outline of her body and revolting wasn't a strong enough word to describe the monster's lecherous gaze.

"She will not," Bulla snarled, her temper rankled as she pushed herself out of a state of vulnerability, despite how literally naked she was. "I'm not going anywhere."

At her defiance, the beetle cackled, a broken and wispy sound. One of its bottom arms reached toward the holster at its hip, and out of the corner of her eye, Bulla noticed Goten's fists clenching at his sides. Her heartbeat began to pick up in her ears, as she sensed that intrinsic energy humming within him.

"You have no choice, female. You come now."

The guard menaced a few steps closer, but Goten raised him two steps more.

"I think she does have a choice. How about whoever wants to see her can come here?"

"That's not how this works. Move."

The beetle's claw clicked around the handle of his weapon, but Goten was faster. In an instant, Goten had shot forward toward the soldier, fist cocked back. The blow landed forcefully against the beetle's thin jaw with a gurgling crunch that caved in it's face, and the guard crumbled to the ground with a horrifying screech. But almost immediately upon contact, Goten began crying out in agony, falling to his hands and knees beside the bug's prone form as his own body hunched and shook in pain.

With a shriek of his name, Bulla rushed to his side, but Goten threw up a wavering hand out to stop her. She noticed then a small bulb on the cuff on his wrists flashing red, then dimming to a muted yellow, before returning to black as Goten worked to catch his breath on the floor.

There came a few loud bursts on the other side of the door. It opened again and in poured three more guards with weapons already drawn and aimed directly at Goten's bowed head. On instinct, Bulla ducked her body over his as though a shield, pressing herself against his back, her eyes screwed shut as she waited for their fire.

But none came. From the end of the hall, a whooshing sound heralded the entrance of someone from the back chute, and each guard froze in place. Bulla listened as they retracted their weapons and replaced them into their holsters, before she dared to peek up from under her wet hair.

Approaching from the back of the hall was Vatet, a placid expression on her face - although Bulla was sure she could see a hint of annoyance flitting across her features.

"Now, what is going on here?" Vatet questioned the guards, as casually as if asking the time. Her eyes flicked down to Bulla and Goten, over to the beetle soldier's groaning mass on the floor, and her mouth folded downward. "This female was due for interview five minutes ago."

"The male specimen assaulted an officer-" one soldier began.

"We were preparing to bring him to the holding bay, ma'am," another butted in with an inclination of his head. "And bring you the female."

Vatet sucked her teeth and rounded the huddled Saiyan hybrids. She lowered down into a squat, her eyes squinting at the two, and Bulla mustered the deadliest glare she could as she hugged herself closer to Goten's shoulders. Vatet reached out to touch Goten's arm, and reflexively Bulla raised a hand to smack her away - but Vatet snatched her wrist around the cuff.

"Ohh, I wouldn't do that, if I were you," the scientist warned smoothly, her fingers dancing around the metallic ring. "It really isn't in your best interest, I assure you."

"Why? Is that what happened to Goten?" Bulla hissed and jerked her hand from Vatet's grasp, and she released her with no complaint.

Vatet tossed her long, white ponytail over her shoulder and smiled serenely down at Goten, who finally had started breathing evenly again, although he had not lifted his head.

"...Yes," came her eventual reply. "As I told you both earlier, your binds are just as much for your protection as they are for ours."

She rose languidly from the floor beside them and fished out a black tablet from her coat pocket. Long fingers traced and tapped at the screen, and Vatet continued, almost bored, "When the sensors are tripped, such as in an act of violence," her hand fanned over Goten's body, "Then a marginal vibrational wave triggers the central nervous system and fires off every pain receptor in the affected specimen to subdue them."

Bulla fought the all-consuming urge to knock the other woman to the floor along with them, every bit of Saiyan in her screaming for vengeance. But upon looking down at Goten, she knew it would do them no good.

With a few final clicks, Vatet pocketed the tablet and raised her eyebrows at the guards. "You two," she pointed at the two who had spoken earlier. "Take Officer Thibab to the infirmary, then send him to me after the interview is completed. We will need an incident report drawn up."

The two soldiers wasted little time in following orders, hoisting their shuddering colleague up from the floor and dragging him back out the door. The remaining soldier stood alert and waiting for Vatet's command, and the scientist tipped her head down at Bulla.

"Would you prefer to dress yourself, or do you require assistance?"

"I don't-"

Vatet bent at the hip, her long white hair nearly brushing the top of Bulla's head as it swung back over her shoulder. "You're coming with me; there is no argument to that," she told Bulla plainly and without room for question. "How you get there is entirely your decision."

Bulla gnashed her teeth and looked away. "... I can dress myself," she spit out, unable to bring herself to look anywhere but the crown of Goten's bent head.

"Good girl," Vatet cooed condescendingly. "I hate making a scene out of something that really is quite simple. As reward for your cooperation, I will allow your mate to join you - but please remind him to behave."

She nodded once at the guard and turned from the pair. Bulla's ears burned at the sound of her heels clicking back down the hall toward the chute.

"You have ten minutes to dress and revive him. Any further tardiness will result in consequences for all parties," Vatet called as her figure disappeared into the chute with a rushing gust.

The soldier heaved a breath, before he glared down at Bulla and Goten. "You heard her," he gruffed out of his lizard-like mug. "Both of you get up. The doctor does not like to be kept waiting."

Bulla felt Goten shift under her, and she scooted back to give him room to rise up. He looked grey in pallor, and her heart cinched at the pain still twisting his features. Her hands held loose around his arms as she helped him back up to his feet gingerly, his limbs still trembling in aftershock. Bulla hooked one of his arms around her shoulders to help support him.

"Are you okay?" She whispered.

He nodded slowly and cracked an eye open to look down at her. "...Yeah," Goten finally croaked. "I'm good, B."

Bulla ushered him over to the couch. "Just… wait here," she instructed as he settled down, and she cast a wary look over at the soldier. "I need to… uhm, go get dressed," she fumbled for the words as she became acutely aware that she had still only been wrapped snugly in the towel from her shower.

Goten did not open his eyes again, but he granted her another small, slow nod. Satisfied that he was at least more comfortable, Bulla went around the back of the couch to collect her uniform off the floor. The guard was watching her closely, and her stomach flipped uneasily under his attention. She hesitated by the bathroom, waiting for him to make a move, but when no argument came she slipped inside.

A breathless sob erupted from her chest as she shut the door behind her.

/*/

Bulma poured tea from the ornate pot into six tea cups arranged around the table.

"Sugar is there," she gestured toward the matching bowl, before she took a seat in the chair next to Vegeta. "Help yourself to some cookies, please!"

Trunks was the only one who made a move, as the others assembled remained still in their seats, and he piled several treats on to his plate.

"Well, what do we know?" Chi-Chi broke the tense silence, her voice fretful. "Tell me you have something!"

Bulma gave her friend a tight smile. "We've gotten some information, and we-"

"Do you think you can find them? Bring them home?!"

"Mom," Gohan placed his hand on his mother's shaking shoulder. "We will. Don't worry."

Vegeta snorted and pushed up from the armchair by his wife, and he stalked over to the window that overlooked the Capsule compound gardens. Bulma glanced after him, but continued on, "We've gotten some information from the guard we captured, but what that information means, we're still waiting to hear back on it."

"Hear back? From who?!" Chi-Chi cried. "Every minute is a minute too long! Who knows where they are, what's happening to them?"

"Quiet!" Vegeta barked over his shoulder, and everyone turned their startled gazes upon him. "Blathering on does them no good-"

"Then what good are you doing?" The furious mother hen rose to her feet. "If Goku was here-"

Her voice cracked, and at the very least Vegeta had the decency to turn away from her crestfallen expression. A silence waved over the group, and Bulma stood to take Chi-Chi's hand in her own.

"Hey, we're doing our best," she told the other woman calmly. Her fingers squeezed, and Chi-Chi's squeezed back. "We'll get them back, Chi-Chi. I've already started working on the spaceship for Vegeta, we're just waiting to hear back-"

"You're going?" Gohan looked over at Vegeta, who only permitted him the side of his face. The nod he offered was subtle, and Gohan bowed his head. "Then I want to go, too."

Chi-Chi gasped and rounded on her eldest with a fierce scowl. "Absolutely not! Gohan, what are you thinking?!"

Gohan waved his hand to cut off his mother, his eyebrows drawn together intently as he continued looking only at Vegeta. "He's my brother; I want to make sure every effort is made to bring him home, along with Bulla."

The unspoken meaning was not missed by those collected together. Whether or not Vegeta took insult remained to be seen, as the Saiyan Prince merely turned back toward the window.

"Fine," eventually came Vegeta's cold answer after a heavy few moments. "But you had better start training in the meanwhile, boy. I won't have you slow me down."

The eldest Son nodded, the smallest smile on his mouth as he sat back down next to his shocked mother. Gradually, Chi-Chi sank back down into the seat beside him, her mouth still hanging agape as she stared emptily at her oldest son.

"Wait, what about me?" Trunks' voice piped up. "I thought I was going to go with you, dad."

"No," Vegeta's single response was hard and clearly the end of that conversation. Trunks' face faltered, before he guarded it back up in the face of his father. "You're needed here, in case they come calling again."

Before anyone could comment further, the lounge door opened, revealing Jaco on the other side. He strolled through the entrance, looking cautiously among those gathered, and freezing on the spot when he spied Vegeta glowering from across the room.

"Jaco! I thought you'd be here sooner!" Bulma snapped as she leapt from her seat to meet the Patrolman halfway. "Didn't Tights tell you this was an emergency?!"

"Listen, my ship can only go so fast, alright?" Jaco grumbled. "Way to greet your guest…" When amusement or repartee was not offered in kind, he sighed, beleaguered already with the group. "Soo.. what's this emergency, anyway? You guys are the strongest in our universe, I seem to remember. What could you need from me?"

"Our children have been taken," Vegeta answered, his entire attention focused on the smaller alien.

"We were hoping you had answers that we don't," Bulma supplied off Jaco's uncertain glance to her. "We managed to get some out of the guy downstairs-"

"Mom," Trunks coughed into his balled fist, and he shook his head significantly at his mother.

Bulma blushed and cleared her throat in understanding. "Ahh anyway! We have some information, but we don't know what to do with it."

Jaco shook his head and let his feet wander further into the lounge. He fell unceremoniously into the seat across from Trunks and plucked a cookie up from the tray. "Alright, let's go, then! What'cha got for me?"

"Ku'am," Vegeta's voice growled from the corner, and Jaco's eyebrows shot up at the name. "Commander Ku'am. Ever heard of him?"

Jaco chewed thoughtfully on the cookie, then swallowed. "Yeeeah... Galactic Patrol is pretty familiar with him. But wait - Ku'am took your kids?" He arched a brow and glanced between Chi-Chi and Vegeta. Off Chi-Chi's plaintive nod, Jaco gave a nervous chuckle and brushed his hands along his thighs. "Whoa, boy… That's not good..."

Bulma ducked her head over his shoulder with a snarl, startling a yelp out of the smaller alien. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Jaco leaned away from her intimidating presence and began sweating bullets under the assembled scrutiny. "Well... uh, you're talking about Ku'am of the Galactic Conservation Institute, right?"

"Spit it out," Vegeta withered a glare in the Patrolman's direction. He encroached a step closer, and Jaco sank deeper into his chair. "If you know something, out with it. I don't have time to fucking waste with you."

Jaco looked between the faces staring intently at him now. "The Galactic Conservation Institute is a sham organization," he muttered at his lap. "They slip through a lot of loopholes, but their tactics go against many of our galactic laws. Unfortunately, they're pretty elusive; their equipment and vessels have become extremely advanced, and their army is growing quicker than we can keep up."

"What do they want with Bulla and Goten?" Bulma queried as she settled on to the arm of Jaco's chair and leaned over him.

A purple hue tinted Jaco's cheeks as he tried to shrink further into the cushions. "I… uh, so Ku'am tries to operate under the guise of being a Galactarian, claiming he 'invites' individuals into his team," he adds with air quotes, "To support their own endangered or extinct species. But really, he's kidnapping them to build himself a greater, stronger army. His science team utilizes a lot of questionable bioengineering and genetic alteration methods on their captives, and-"

"So ... what? He wants Goten and my sister to be a part of his army?" Trunks scoffed. "Then why's my dad still here? Or me? He could've taken us all. I was in the room with them when they busted in."

"It's probably because it's far easier to breed soldiers naturally, rather than collect them unwillingly…" Jaco mumbled, now practically crimson as his pained gaze drilled holes into the ground.

The energy in the room sparked. While the others grouped still struggled with the information, Vegeta's expression was found almost blank in rage as he stalked closer toward Jaco.

"You make yourself clear," Vegeta's voice came low and unwavering. "What is it they intend with my daughter?"

Jaco glanced up at Vegeta, and he seemed to regret it almost immediately. His eyebrows arched helplessly and he shrugged his hunched shoulders. "I… if I had to guess? They … probably intend to create their own home-grown Saiyan army, using the most honest genetic material they could collect."

Trunks coughed hard on the cookie he had just bitten into, his fisted hand banging against his chest as Gohan and Chi-Chi gasped out in unified shock.

"Wait, what?"

"Do you mean-!"

"Oh, god!" Bulma jumped up from her perch on the arm of Jaco's chair. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she whipped around to stare at her husband in abject horror.

The Saiyan was smoldering in his fury, his barely restrained anger roiling just under the surface, and a red aura reverberated from him as murder flashed in his eyes.

"Over my dead body."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo we got a rescue team, y'all! I have the next chapter almost completed, but I also just started another semester of school and also had a personal tragedy occur, so the ones after next may take a little longer to come. Or maybe not, writing this and the next chapter have been pretty therapeutic and helped me get my mind off of real life woes for a bit.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy and, as always, thank you for your kind reviews!


	5. chapter 5 (exceptional)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting the note in the beginning this chapter to let readers know that the first scene has an uncomfortable moment that involves some physical violation (not sexual!) so if that triggers you, please skip it! I do not want to upset anyone! The Cliffs Notes is that Bulla is physically examined by Vatet. It's not a graphic scene by any means, but I know that it may certainly not be everyone's cup of tea. So if you want to scroll by it, I've put my scene marker /*/ in bold when it switches from that one to the next!
> 
> Hopefully those who do read it are not put off by its inclusion! I debated on putting it in, but ultimately I just felt like the vulnerability it rendered in Goten and Bulla was necessary for the growth of their relationship. I also really wanted to drive home just how little the GCI values humanity and regards specimens as just that - specimens.
> 
> Also of note, as it might've been missed: Vegebul and Company are a day or so BEHIND Goten and Bulla's time.
> 
> Okay... without further ado! Thank you all for your support and reviews! I'm glad everyone is having a good time!

The ventilation system kicked on loudly overhead in the otherwise silent office.

Bulla and Goten sat beside each other in individual chairs across a massive desk from Vatet. Both wore matching skeptical looks, as Bulla slumped down in her seat and Goten stayed perched just on the edge of his own, ready for any sudden movement. The beautiful, red-skinned alien, however, appeared nonplussed by their attendance. Diligently she typed into the computer set on one corner, scrolling up on the screen and selecting a few things with the tip of her finger, before she finally focused her attention upon the pair with a vacant smile.

"Well, I see your color has restored," she observed politely of Goten, who only glared in return. "I'm sorry that had to happen to you. You must understand, every life here is valued, and we would prefer to take non-lethal, preventative measures during such incidences."

"So then why do the guards have guns?" Bulla grumbled as her arms folded tighter across her chest to fight off the chill beginning to settle in her bones.

"Ah, yes. Just like the binds, their weapons are for the protection and safety of us all," Vatet folded her palms together atop the desk, ever poised. "We have had instances in the past where certain … outsiders attempted to breach our facility and remove valuable specimens from our care, resulting in lethal force."

Bulla's insides fluttered with hope. Her hands fisted in her lap as she dared to ask, "People have tried to break in?"

"It is rare, but it has happened-"

"Would they ever shoot us?"

Bulla looked over at Goten in surprise. It was the first he had spoken since they left the homing room; his voice sounded almost unrecognizable, scratchy and low, while his gaze never strayed from the wall. Vatet returned his query with a smile.

"If, for some reason, your binds did not function appropriately or in time to prevent harm from coming to another…" She trailed off, as if weighing the pros and cons of continuing. "...then yes, extreme consequences have been exacted on some specimens. But we're not here for all that!" Vatet returned her attention to Bulla, pointing a manicured nail in her direction. "Right now, we are here for  _your_  interview."

Bulla turned away from the other woman's face, unwilling to cooperate.

"I see this won't be easy…" Vatet chuckled. "Let's start simple. Do you have any known allergies?"

"Wouldn't your blood test cover that?"

"I like to compare notes."

The blue-haired girl's eyes narrowed into mean slits, a vicious glare aimed at the scientist across from her. Bulla despised the woman's smug visage that much more, already she had nearly chewed a hole through her cheek in her effort to keep her temper in check.

Irritated, she snapped, "No, nothing."

Vatet typed her response into the computer. "Do you have any siblings?"

"One brother."

"Progenitors?"

"My mother is… she's a human from Earth. My father is Vegeta, Prince of All Saiyans," Bulla finished, tone tipping into haughty, as she arched a single eyebrow pointedly at Vatet.

However, the scientist seemed unfazed and met her gaze head on, a grin quirked at the corner of her mouth. "Yes, we were very excited to acquire such a prestigious specimen. Your father," she nodded then at Goten, "was Son Goku, correct?"

Bulla felt Goten go still next to her. She glanced over at him, finding his expression stony and his dark eyes now boring into his knees.

After a moment, he nodded wordlessly.

"My, my, what a fine specimen  _he_  would've been," Vatet clucked her tongue as she typed. "Still no word on his whereabouts?"

"... _No_ ," Goten grit out.

"What a pity," Vatet sighed, entirely ambivalent to the aggravation radiating off of Goten, and turned back to Bulla. "So, your species - both humans and Saiyans - are clearly biologlly compatible and reproduce sexually. Are you aware of your species' reproductive practices?"

Bulla blushed and tucked her chin against her collar. She prayed for the floor to swallow her whole. " _Yes_."

"We are vaguely familiar with the courting process that generally precedes sexual reproduction within your dual species," Vatet explained and grabbed her tablet out of her pocket. She tapped her nails several times against the screen which flashed varied greens and blues across her features. "We found that the efficiency of the process varies, given the level of physical and emotional attraction-"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize this was a social health class!" Bulla couldn't take it anymore, her anger spiking dangerously with embarrassment as she sat up straighter in her seat. She was about to crawl out of her skin, desperate to be anywhere but here, listening to anything but this. "Are we done yet?"

Vatet stared blankly at the younger girl, her dark red lips pursed and eyes squinting in consideration. Eventually, she drew a long breath and her mouth smoothed into a smile once more as she placed the tablet face down in front of her.

"Tell me, Bulla: do you find your selected mate attractive?"

At once, the oxygen expelled from Bulla's lungs, and her fingers gripped the arm of her chair with a sharpness that caused it to crack under her hand. Vatet glanced toward her computer, then back at Bulla, her expression remaining neutral as she waited for a response. When it appeared none further would come, Vatet turned instead to Goten, who was avidly avoiding all eye contact.

"How about you, Goten? Do  _you_  find your selected mate attractive?"

His only reply came in the shocked wavering of his mouth and a rosy tint coloring his cheeks. Bulla was challenged not to stare at him, choosing instead to focus on the back of the tablet laid on the desk as she willed herself unaffected by his evident discomfort at the question.

As neither spoke up, Vatet began typing again into her computer with a shrug. "We understand that attraction comes in many forms. And oftentimes one may not be aware of their attraction to another, or even that an individual is attracted to them, or that it may not be reciprocated at all." With an upturn of her nose in disdain, Vatet scoffed, "Your species - the humans of Earth - tend to overthink and make something as simple as procreation into quite the endeavor."

She finished and twisted in her seat to look upon them both again, her signature dull smile back in place. "That being said, I want you both to know that your mutual attraction is not required here," she assured them. "Regardless of your attraction - or the lack thereof - to one another, we have ways of getting around all that."

Off their mutual uneasy glances, Vatet smirked. "I mentioned during inventory, we have alternative ways of acquiring your genetic material, but we would prefer not to go that route, as it can be quite invasive and sometimes leaves a specimen … damaged," Vatet explained, notably careful when selecting her last word, and Bulla fought a shudder at the implication. "In the case of yours, with a species that is virtually extinct, we'd rather go by more rudimentary means with some extra encouragement and genetic engineering as an accompaniment, to preserve and enhance what we can."

It grew hot underneath her itchy jumpsuit as the weight of Vatet's words settled starkly over Bulla. She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea racked her empty insides, a flutter of faintness darkening her peripheral.

Goten, on the other hand, had regained his strength now, as his fisted hand slammed down -  _hard_  - on the edge of the desk. A miniscule bulb on the side of his cuff winked orange in Bulla's direction, and she reached a hand out to warn him, cutting him off. He glanced over at her, then down at the light blinking up from his wrist, before he settled slowly back into his chair with his jaw clenched tight.

Vatet laughed delicately against the back of her hand and stood up from behind her desk, not worried in the least over the fuming young man across from her. "We understand this can be a challenging process," she spoke in an almost gentle manner as she circled around behind them. "But it's done for the greater good of the galaxy. You will find that truth, in time. And who knows? Perhaps attraction will be born from companionship. We have had a few mated pairs find comfort and satisfaction with one another over the duration of their stay-"

"Shut up," Bulla growled, eyes shut tight, face burning red and a sour taste in her mouth. "I want to go back to the room, now."

"Ahh, well, we still have the examination due," Vatet sighed as though labored, and Bulla snapped her eyes back open; she had nearly forgotten.

Vatet strolled over to the wall where a black box lay mounted, similar to the one by the chute in their homing room. Her long fingers punched a few select keys, and mechanically a portion of the previously seamless wall whirred and parted. From the opening unfolded a single, metal platform bed that rested at hip level with a small tray table attached.

Panic began tickling up from the base of her spine when she noticed the medical-looking instruments collected on the tray. Her hand jumped to clutch at her bosom as the pressure in her chest increased and fear sprang anew.

"Bulla, I'll need you to undress and lie down for me while I get my-"

"No," Goten stood quickly with a squeak of the chair along the floor. His face was set firm with righteous, indignant anger. "She's not doing that."

"Well, I certainly can't examine her with clothes  _on_ ," Vatet condescended so casually as she worked her hands into a set of purple gloves. "It is strictly to collect data-"

"Then you can ask her questions or fuck off, but you're not touching her."

Vatet snapped her left glove at the wrist as she finished putting the pair on, her pretty features now gone cold in the face of his bold defiance.

"Look, I've been very patient with you both," she began calmly as she started approaching the two hybrids. "But I must confess that my patience has limits. I have a job to do here, and so do you, so either you work with me, or we take further action to ensure cooperation."

Bulla knew the threat was not unfounded. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Goten's cuff was still blinking orange, and she recalled quite vividly his cries of pain from the incident with the guard, his exhausted breaths, his trembling hands in the aftershock. She didn't think she could bear witnessing him take another hit on her behalf, and she certainly wasn't fool enough to risk herself.

Reluctantly, she decided and rose from her seat. At the motion, Goten whipped his head around in alarm.

"Bulla, what are you…?! No! Sit down-"

"Goten, it's fine," she breathed, throat tight as she fought back the burning behind her eyes. "I don't want-"

"You don't have to do-"

"I don't want you to get hurt again! So just stop!" Bulla flared at him, already jerking away from his side toward the table and Vatet. She looked up at the scientist from under wet lashes as she tried to blink her anxious tears away, but found herself rendered unable to speak when looking up at the woman's unimpressed face.

Satisfied at least with her compliance, Vatet gestured toward the table. "Undress and lay here. The exam will be quick and painless, I assure you. It's actually quite tedious."

With a tentative peek back over her shoulder at Goten ( _oh, how he looked so wounded and helpless back at her_ ) Bulla nodded and lifted her tremulous fingers to the zipper of her suit at the nape of her neck. She drew it down slowly and closed her eyes, the sound of the scraping teeth echoing in her ears, all the way down until the back gaped open at her waist. From behind her, Bulla heard Goten gasp, but she dared not look back at him, dread and shame all welling fresh in her gut.

She continued stripping with shaking hands, kicking off her shoes to shimmy the rest of the way out of the jumpsuit. It wasn't until she was bare that Bulla registered the wetness coating her cheeks, and for the first time in her life she felt truly  _weak_.

It was worse than fear, worse than hunger, and all consuming.

Unaffected by her show of emotion, Vatet pointed at the examination bed with no further preamble.

Bulla felt outside of herself as she moved haltingly toward the table. She lowered her body upon the cold surface, scooted her bottom until she could lie on her back, where she then found herself pinned under Vatet's curious gaze. Her tears had yet to stop flowing, and the alien woman above her touched a fingertip to a droplet as it cascaded down Bulla's cheek before it reached her chin.

"...These will do you no good here," Vatet told her in a hushed tone, like a secret shared between them, before she wiped the teardrop off on Bulla's naked shoulder and reached for the overhead examination light to angle it over her body.

Bulla sniffled and pressed the back of her head hard into the steel beneath her, silently begging her traitorous body to cease its useless weeping. She shut her eyes, her shoulders shook with restrained sobs, and as she tried to disassociate from the entire experience a sudden warmth enveloped her hand and startled her eyes back open.

To her right, Goten had joined her side, his larger hand loosely taking her own as his eyes focused solely on the wall by the top of her head, unwilling to look upon her. She noticed then, for sure - tears, unspilled, lingering in the corners of his eyes. Gently, she squeezed her fingers around his, and he closed his eyes painfully against the gesture.

The examination was relatively quick and extremely clinical. Vatet would occasionally jot notes on to a nearby clipboard or reach for vials to collect samples - hair, skin, various uncomfortable swabs. Bulla laid as still as her shivering body would permit, complying involuntarily with the single word instructions directed at her. Throughout the exam, Goten did not dare steal a glance downward, nor did he release her hand, keeping her tethered until Vatet declared herself finished.

"You may redress," she told Bulla, who remained frozen on the table, as she pitched her gloves into the nearby waste bin.

It wasn't until Vatet collected her clipboard and samples into a drawer on her desk that Goten shuffled a few steps away from Bulla's side, dropping her hand, his back now fully turned to her. He provided her space and privacy, which she accepted, her body moving of its own accord off the table. Her bare feet tingled upon the frigid floor.

Buzzing like static was her mind as she bent to step back into the suit and pulled it up to her torso, but her thoughts blanked out altogether when she felt Goten's fingers gently take the zipper when she had gotten it halfway up her back. He tugged it the rest of the way, every hair on her arms standing on end and all breath caught in a knot as his full hand pressed against the middle of her back - an anchor holding her fast.

"... I'm sorry, Bulla," his quiet voice cracked over her name, and her chest ached into the sound. She could only exhale again when his hand slid away in defeat. Bulla resisted the urge to turn after it.

They waited, separate but together, as the ventilation once again turned on noisily above them. The scientist paid them little further attention, until an alligator-faced soldier buzzed himself into the room. Vatet stood from her desk and exchanged words with the guard in that foreign language, sideways gestures directed toward the sullen pair.

The alligator-faced soldier merely motioned for them to exit with his weapon when Vatet returned to her desk, and Goten assumed the lead ahead of Bulla as they trekked back to their homing room.

**/*/**

"Do you think it's wise?"

Gohan dodged a punch and follow-up roundhouse, blocking another blow with his crossed forearms.

He shrugged, a frown creasing his forehead, as he retaliated with an elbow and a high knee.

"Probably not," he conceded. "But there's not a lot of options, and we don't have a lot of time. They've already been gone almost a day. We need to act, now."

Piccolo nodded and they both resumed their sparring with no other commentary for a few forms more, before Videl bid them in for supper. Gohan rushed past her with a sweaty kiss pressed to her temple, swearing a shower before he'd join them at the table.

He pretended not to notice her downcast gaze.

However, his daughter met him halfway up the stairs, and the scowl on her face intensified as she took in his worn appearance. There'd be no avoiding this confrontation.

"Pan," he smiled, because an argument with his spunky offspring was at the bottom of his to-do list at this point. "Did you hear your mother call for dinner? It's ready."

"Don't give me that!" Pan grumbled in annoyance. "What do you think you're doing? You can't go to  _space_! What if something happens to you?!"

"It's not like it's my first time…" Gohan offered sheepishly as he wiped the beads of sweat from the back of his neck with the towel about his shoulders. "And I'm not going alone."

"I don't know why you're going at all!" Pan complained and flattened her back against the stairwell wall as her father passed her. "Trunks could go! Or me!"

At that, Gohan turned around quickly on her. " _No_ ," he told her forcefully. After what they had learned of his brother and Bulla's captors, and of their intentions, he'd be dead before he would allow his daughter anywhere near them.

"You're safer here," his voice softened as he settled on the simpler answer, however dissatisfying it was for her. Gohan resumed climbing the staircase toward the bathroom. "Besides, I'll be back before you know it!"

"And what makes you so sure?"

Gohan chuckled, telling her over his shoulder as he entered the bathroom above, "Because Vegeta's coming with me!"

He ignored the scornful swearing under her breath as he shut the door behind him. What he couldn't tell her was how there was so no time to waste on this trip, how they were facing an unknown threat, how her uncle and best friend were in an unimaginably horrifying situation, and how - while he had all the faith in the world that Vegeta would certainly find the pair - Gohan had to make sure for himself that his brother came back home, ideally in one piece.

/*/

Trunks had been making swift work of updating the space ship alongside his mother. It had been a while since he had worked in the lab, having been navigating more of the corporate side of the family business lately. This offering of some help to the cause at least made him feel useful.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't the tiniest bit jealous of the prospective adventure he wasn't invited along on. Granted, he understood the logistics behind keeping his feet grounded, lest they give these weirdos another host of Saiyan DNA or leave Earth defenseless. But it nevertheless bothered him that his father declined his assistance in the rescue altogether.

"How's it coming, baby?" Bulma huffed as she climbed out from inside.

Trunks wheeled himself out from underneath the vessel, wiping a slick of oil from his cheek, grunting as he sat upright for the first time in what felt like hours.

"Alright down here," he sighed. "Just patched the thrusters, I was gonna have you take a look at the auxiliary grav modulators for me."

As Bulma descended, Trunks rose to allow her space to check his work. She slid under the hull, but it didn't take long for her to reemerge with a happy nod.

"Perfect! I think all that's left is a demo of the gravity simulator we installed, make sure it can withstand the pressure," she said. "No doubt Vegeta will want to train on board, and we don't want him blowing up along the way, do we?"

He laughed half-heartedly, but it died in his throat as intrusive, negative thoughts crept back in.

"...Hey, mom?" When Bulma looked around at Trunks, he glanced away, going red in the cheeks as he fumbled for the words. "...Do you think they're ok?"

Bulma hesitated, before a sad smile ghosted over her lips. She moved toward Trunks, her hand cupping his shoulder and squeezing. The worry pounding in his heart eased at the sensation, and he focused down at his sneakers.

"I mean, it's really fucked up, right?" Trunks shuddered, going through all the information they had acquired in gruesome detail in his head. "If that's what they actually were taken for, like Jaco said."

His stomach clenched as he thought about his sister and Goten - like  _that_. It wasn't right; in fact, it went against all the laws of Kami and man.

The sigh his mother expelled was great and quivering, as Bulma settled down on the ground beside him. She drew her legs up to her chest, hugging them loosely, as she tilted her face to look upon her son.

"It  _is_  super fucked up," she agreed. "But we're going to get them back."

"What if we can't? Not both?"

"Trunks," Bulma admonished him.

"...Dad'll kill him if he touches her." The words spilled out of his mouth dreadfully, as Trunks found himself unable to hold them in any more. Saying them out loud made him ill. He felt more than saw his mother go still beside him.

"You need to give your father a little more credit, kid," Bulma scolded him in a quiet voice. "Your dad cares for Goten, too. He will do everything in his power to bring them BOTH back safely."

Without waiting for Trunks' reply, Bulma stood and brushed off her backside. "C'mon," she motioned for him to get up and follow her. "Let's try this out, so they can get going. Time's running out on us."

Trunks nodded, trying to absorb his mother's reassurance and push away the negative. As he passed Bulma on the ramp, she caught him by the earlobe, and with a sharp yelp she yanked him down to eye-level with her.

"And I had better not hear you talk about your father like that  _ever_  again," she hissed, tone deadly. "Do you understand me?"

Grimacing in pain, Trunks' head nodded rapidly, and she relinquished him with a pinch. He rubbed at the sore spot as he trudged into the ship behind her, hoping the words he had confessed to her were not as true as they felt in his heart.

/*/

The walk back to their homing room seemed endless. Goten's brain was still muddled from the tussle with the guard earlier and whatever his binds had done to him - and what had just happened to Bulla. It had all but ripped him in half to witness first hand as she was laid so vulnerable against her will. He felt ashamed he had let her go through with it. He should've protected her, no matter the cost.

He wondered if that guilt would haunt him forever.

Goten glanced over at Bulla from the corner of his eye. Her gaze was dropped low, her hair partially obscuring her face from his view. He was struck with the desire to tuck it behind her ear, brush it over her shoulder - but he ignored it, staring straight ahead as they marched along. It wasn't much further until the soldier scanned his brace at the mount by their door, ushering them by with a grunt.

"You will be ready tomorrow after first rounds," the alligator-creature snarled in Goten's direction. "And Vatet says 'no funny business', you got that, monkey?"

He suddenly felt Bulla's ki flare, and Goten swore he could hear her heartbeat race a little harder at that derogatory term her father despised so much. Looking down at her wrist by her hip, he spotted a yellow flash that made him reach for her hand.

The guard grunted one more time as he exited, leaving the two alone again, oblivious to how close to grave injury he had just come. As soon as the door shut behind him, Bulla released Goten's hand and stalked toward the couch. She crawled into the crook, where she curled up into herself and settled. He wondered whether or not to leave her be, but instinct drove him to follow her footsteps.

Goten fell into the spot next to her, and his head hit the back of the couch with a thunk. When he lolled it to his left, his insides tightened at the sight of her. She looked so vague and far away, and only sadness was discernible in her features. It hurt to look at her; should it hurt like this to look at her?

Unsure of anything else to fill the silence between them, he wondered of her quietly, "You okay?"

It was a dumb question, her sidelong glare answered for him. But her eyebrows drifted upward as she bowed her head away from him and sniffled.

How many times would she be forced to cry? He hated seeing her like this, hated everything this place was doing to her, to them both. Goten wasn't accustomed to this amount of uncertainty in his life, and he doubted that she was either.

"What about you?" Her small voice asked of him, and he found himself surprised off her concern. "After what happened…"

Goten stared at her, then looked down at the binds on his wrists.  _What happened…_  the nerves in his body still vibrated in painful reminder.

"It was awful," he answered her truthfully as the excruciating memory ricocheted under the surface of his skin. "I don't think I've ever felt anything like that." His mouth continued as he tried to formulate the words to describe the experience, "It was like… every part of my body was electrocuted or something. My teeth, my nails, my skin, my bones…"

Goten shook his head, a hand gripping his hair as he tried to shake the residuals still pinging around, threatening to tremor his fingers. "I don't think anything ever hurt like that before."

She was sniffing back tears again, he realized, turning his gaze up to find her watching him with agonizingly blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, and he felt so badly for it. He should've kept his dumb mouth shut.

Fleetingly, Goten thought of his mother, his heart skipping an uncomfortable beat.

"Hey, hey," Goten shushed her as her face began to crumple. She ducked her head to rest her forehead on her drawn knees, and he shuffled a couch cushion closer to her, his arms moving of their own volition to wrap around her. She resisted for a moment, before leaning into his steadfast embrace. "It's not your fault. I knew what I was doing."

He drew back to look at her, her head still ducked from his view. "Bulla," he spoke her name softly, and as her damp eyes flicked up to meet his own he registered a flutter in his stomach. "I told you, they're not gonna get you alone without a fight-"

"I don't want you to die," Bulla whimpered over him. Off Goten's confusion, she reminded him, "You said that they'd have to kill you first."

He blushed at how dramatic it sounded coming from her now. And as he thought about it, Goten had to laugh, and at least that turned her lips in the faintest promise of a smile.

"Yeah," he snickered in self-deprecation. "That was pretty stupid of me, huh?"

Bulla scoffed a fragile laugh, swallowed and drew a deep breath through her nose as she calmed herself back down. His hands slid about her upper arms to hold her shivering body still, and it wasn't until they had gone quiet that he realized how close they were to one another. He could make out each freckle on her nose, each dewy tear tracking down her cheeks, felt the fanning of her quivering breath across his face - which grew warmer with each rise and fall of his own chest.

She tilted her head at him, and her blue hair tickled the tops of his fingers. "Goten?"

He snapped out of it, his hands around her squeezing then releasing her altogether. Goten stood from the couch as he cleared his mind of the delicate features he had just catalogued.

"I was going to hop a shower," he told her, the necessity for space between them hitting him swiftly. "You gonna be okay?"

Bulla smiled tenderly up at him, completely unaware of his discomfort. "Yeah, I think I'm just going to go lay down in the bed?"

"Sure, sure… Then I'll probably … I don't know, sleep out here?"

He wasn't sure why his voice betrayed him to pose it as a question, or why he suddenly felt so nervous.

Not seeming to mind, Bulla nodded and rose to her feet. "Or you can come sleep on the floor?" She suggested, not entirely in jest as he registered her somewhat hopeful look.

Goten chuckled as he shook his head, turning back toward the hall and stopping to collect a towel on his way. "Yeah, maybe," he told her before entering the bathroom, thinking maybe he wouldn't but knowing he very likely would.

/*/

Bulma had told him the ship was essentially complete, and he'd nearly launched without a second thought. But the woman had shouted him down and now he was forced to sit and wait, wasting more of the precious little time they had, until the eldest of Kakarrot's spawn arrived.

Vegeta had nearly drummed a hole in the main console of the vessel as he stewed. So far, he had done fairly well in reigning in his temper - spare the maggot they had held captive ( _Bulma turned him over to Galactic Patrol before he could finish the job_ ) - but that twine-thin thread of patience was about to snap within him.

Behind his lids, all he could picture was his daughter's face. Bright eyes like her mother's. Heard her tinkling laughter ringing in his ears. It made him wonder in annoyance, had she ever been afraid of anything in her spoiled life? Had he prepared her at all for something of this nature? Guilt festering in his gut was inclined to tell him he hadn't.

He swore to every god in every universe that he would get her back, and he certainly hoped she would be as close to unscathed as possible. But from what that idiot Patrolman had divulged to them, was that so likely?

A gloved fist clenched and sparked with a crackle of light blue. The idea that these outsiders would have the gall to kidnap his child and then presume to use her as their broodmare? Vegeta would annihilate the lot of them for that effront.

"Knock, knock," Trunks announced his presence, drawing Vegeta from his murderous reverie. "Gohan's on his way now. Mom wants you to say bye before you guys take off."

"Tch," Vegeta sneered. "He'd better hurry, or I'm leaving without him."

Trunks hesitated by the door, and Vegeta watched him out of his peripheral. He knew his son well enough to understand when he was sniffing around for something.

"You're not coming, Trunks. I've already told you-"

"That's not it."

Vegeta grit his teeth together, patience waning with every second. "Then what, boy?"

A hand raked through lavender hair; his tell of inner conflict. Vegeta narrowed his eyes as he surveyed his son vacillating on whatever was bothering him, and he opened his mouth to turn him away.

"What if it's too late, dad? What're you guys gonna do?"

The question stung more than Vegeta was willing to admit, lighting new rage inside his heart. He turned from Trunks, snarling from the side, "If you don't have anything useful to supply, then get out."

"I'm just saying-"

"What  _are_  you saying? What if your sister has already been killed?" Vegeta stood and rounded on his son, and the words spoken brought Trunks' jaw to clench. _Good_. "What if Bulla has been broken? What if she's been tortured? What if they make true use out of her? What do you propose then, that we leave her then?"

"No, I-!"

"Then shut up!"

When the younger man ducked his head in shame, Vegeta snorted through flared nostrils, shaking his head. "You have no idea the gravity of her situation, with your 'what if's." He turned his back completely on Trunks to stare out of the cockpit window, himself only too familiar of the true universe far from home and the horrors it could reap.

"When I get there, I'll find her, and bring her home. One way or another."

"And what about Goten?"

"I'll bring him home, too," Vegeta answered almost grudgingly, annoyed he had to even speak it aloud. However, he understood the concern - from Trunks, from Gohan. To say it was unfounded would be a lie. "But if it comes down to your sister or Kakarrot's brat, Bulla takes priority."

Another ki signature had been sneaking closer and Vegeta made sure his words would carry. Footfalls heralded Gohan's approach, and his consequent glower of determination made it evident that his promise had been heard.

_Good_.

"That's why I'm coming," Gohan's voice came steadier than Vegeta would've given him credit for. "Even up the priorities, right?"

Trunks glanced between them, wary of their vows and of their candor with each other. If there was anything else he wanted to add to the conversation, it had been tempered by the tension between the two older Saiyans.

Vegeta eyed Gohan up and down with a hitch of his chin. "You'd better be ready. We're leaving now."

The eldest Son threw the duffel bag that hung from his shoulders into one of the cockpit chairs as he boarded past Trunks, who maneuvered out of the way and down a couple of steps.

"No time like the present, eh?"

With a sidelong look at his son, Vegeta nodded. "Well, let's get on with it, then. Boy, get your mother," he told Trunks before resuming his place at the helm. "If she takes longer than five minutes, I'm leaving without a damn goodbye."


	6. chapter 6 (noteworthy)

Goten was sure he was dreaming, floating outside of his body. He couldn't feel anything solid and couldn't move even his pinky finger or big toe, and damn was he trying to wiggle. His eyes cracked open, squinting into the blinding medical light angled over him, and panic hit him like a truck. He realized that the paralysis wasn't imagined but in fact was very real, and as he looked down his torso he found not only was he shackled to an exam table but also completely undressed.

Vatet's lovely visage appeared over him, blocking the light, mouth stretched in that saccharine smile of hers, and Goten couldn't fight the blush that overcame him at being laid so exposed to her.

"Thank goodness! Any longer and I'd have had to commence the exam with or without you," she tsked almost playfully in between dressing her hands in familiar gloves. Goten tried to arch off the bed, but his numb body failed to respond. Noting the desperation in his face, Vatet patted his shoulder comfortingly - or at least it looked as though it was meant to be comforting. "There won't be any of that. I'm afraid given the circumstances, you've had to be restrained for this exam. I do apologize-"

"What circumstances?! How did I even get here?" His gaze searched wildly for any trace of blue around the small white office. Finding none, his heart stopped and his throat clenched in mounting dread. "Where's Bulla?"

Vatet made a thoughtful noise as she checked the instruments collected on the bedside table. "I… believe she had her baseline test scheduled," she shrugged, clearly disinterested. "It'll likely be complete by the time-"

"What the hell is that? I told her she wouldn't be alone!" Again, Goten attempted to struggle against his binds, but he remained unmoved. "What the fuck have you done to me?!" He yelled at the red woman, frustrated and red-faced.

Cool hands smoothed around to cup his face, and though Goten was relieved to feel something, he recoiled from her touch. Vatet did not seem offended though, her delicate fingers slipping away indifferently as he turned out of her loose grasp.

"Your restraints are emitting a high frequency pulse that is essentially paralyzing you," she answered him in a conversational manner as she picked up a blue plastic rod with a several-sided geometric mirror at its end. Goten had seen this tool during Bulla's exam; he clamped his mouth shut defiantly.

Vatet snickered at his effort before pressing her thumb hard into a space near the hinge of his jaw, her index finger pushing against a spot underneath his mandible. His mouth fell open (much to his dismay) under the dual pressure points, and she angled his face upward for better access. Vatet inserted the rod with her other hand, inspecting is mouth as she continued breezily, "Regrettably, you and your companion attacked our staff when they came to collect you - again - and as that is a second offense for you, you will be held under extra security measures for the foreseeable future."

Goten gave an indignant snort as she probed his gaping mouth, retracted her tool, then reached for a swab with her free hand. She swiped the inside of his cheek that her thumb and index finger framed, and he was sorely tempted to take a chunk out of the digit. His stomach rumbled at the thought.

"I notice you and your mate don't have the standard Saiyan tail," she commented while she released his jaw and tucked her swab into a vial. "Is that common for hybrids of your nature, or were they removed?"

He was inclined not to reply, but at this point he figured minimal compliance would do him better.

Goten averted his eyes, replying stonily, "Mine was removed when I was a baby."

"Ah, that's too bad. I've heard they grow back?" Off his silence, she wondered, "And what about hers?"

He shook his head, unnamed and uncomfortable emotions stirring inside him as he remembered the day of Bulla's unusual birth. How weird to think about that now; how far they had come.

"She was born without one."

A thoughtful sound reverberated in Vatet's throat as she felt around his corded neck now, over his shoulders, and he noted that was about where he lost feeling of his body. The exam continued in silence, gratefully, until she pushed both sets of finger tips over his middle and pushed inward.

"You haven't eaten," her voice was reproachful as she glared down at him. Her scowl was reminiscent of his mother's. "I noticed that with the female, too. Did you not see your galley?"

Off her reminder, Goten's stomach thundered in upset. He looked away as crimson tinted his cheeks, muttering low, "We don't trust it."

"Oh, I see," Vatet scoffed as she inserted a device similar to an otoscope into his left ear and peeked inside. "Well, I can't say I blame you. But it's a bit foolish to starve yourselves. Even if we did something to it - which we haven't, by the way - what else do you presume to do?"

He glanced up to find her watching him expectantly, waiting for his answer. He and Bulla honestly hadn't reached a conclusion to that point yet, interrupted by soldiers during such a discussion.

Uncertain, Goten merely shrugged.

Vatet nodded as she removed the instrument from that ear and moved to his right. "We have tried manipulating nourishment before," she admitted as she then put the otoscope away and picked up another tool like a vice that she clamped over his bicep - it beeped - then his thigh - it beeped - as her other hand scribbled down its readings on a nearby clipboard. "There were unfortunate side effects following the first several attempts, so we gave up that endeavor. Additionally, other specimens were voluntarily starving themselves once word got out to general population, which is counterproductive to what we are trying to achieve here."

"Just eat," she finished, laying the pen down atop the clipboard and stowing away the vice tool. "It'll make everything a little more endurable."

Goten was caught off guard by the gentle smile she flashed him then, and he looked away in embarrassment. Vatet resumed the moderately mortifying examination for a few long minutes of eternity more, with Goten shutting his eyes and willing himself anywhere else, before she pressed a purple button on the black mount. The bulkier braces on Goten's wrists folded back into the sides of the bed, revealing his standard binds still attached to him.

Upon the release, he regained instantaneous feel of his body and extremities, and Goten shot up off the bed as quickly as he could.

"Don't get too eager," Vatet gestured to his folded jumpsuit in a chair as the bed collapsed back into its hidden place in the wall. "Dress, and we can finish the interview."

An argument lay on the tip of his tongue, but Goten caught himself and bit down on his cheek. He wasted no time in wriggling back into the tight suit, doing his damnedest not to look at the scientist, although she seemed busy enough typing into her computer. When he had dressed, he took a chair across the desk from her.

"Siblings?" She prompted out of seemingly nowhere, as she didn't bother looking up from her screen.

"Uh, one brother," Goten supplied, and she nodded.

"Let's see…" she hummed and dragged her finger down the screen. "I already asked you about your father… ah, have you sired before?"

Goten's brain stumbled over the question. "What? What's that?"

Her bright eyes lit up in genuine amusement, and despite his loathing of her, Goten couldn't help his baser self from thinking she was pretty. He hated himself for that.

"I'm asking have you fathered any children?"

"WHAT!" Goten leaned away in horror at the notion. "No! No, never!"

Vatet laughed and waved her hand at him, shushing his anxiety, "You'd better get used to this kind of talk, or it's going to be pretty uncomfortable for you-"

"You think I'm comfortable?" Goten interrupted, dumbfounded.

"Well, you could be."

Her quick retort gave him disbelieving pause. Undeterred, Vatet shrugged. "I mean, what's not comfortable? The private quarters? Free meals? Fresh showers?" She stood from the desk and rounded it to perch on the edge in front of him; he scooted his chair back to provide space between them. "Or what about the health care our medical team provides? Our amenities?"

Vatet folded her arms and one of her eyebrows lifted in suggestion. "Or maybe the beautiful woman you've been paired with doesn't bring you comfort?"

At that, Goten blushed and turned his face from her, but nevertheless she continued, "I understand you two have some sort of … familial-like bond that causes you to find some level of discomfort at what we are expecting of you. But do you know how lucky the two of you are?"

He almost dared to look at her; instead, he settled on giving her the corner of his eye but stayed silent.

"Often times the pair we collect do not know one another. How do you think that turns out for the both of them?" When Goten didn't answer, Vatet leaned closer to him, enough that he could feel her body heat invading his space. He shrank back into the chair away from her. "The male specimens adjust better and faster - I'm sure you can imagine why," she sneered, and his face grew hotter at the implication. "But you know each other, and you care for one another. You should feel comfort in  _that_ , if anything at all."

Goten went hollow at the thought of himself being forced into this situation with anyone other than Bulla, or her with anyone else either. How terribly lost they both would be. The red-skinned woman maneuvered back to her side of the desk with quiet remaining between them as she entered something into the computer and he reconsidered his definition of 'comfort'.

Vatet pressed a button on the screen and rose, just as the doors to her office parted. Hope fluttered in his heart as Goten twisted in his chair, praying to see Bulla when he turned, but it was another guard, the one Bulla had struck earlier in their homing room scuffle. The alligator-faced creature was sporting a square of gauze over the eye she had elbowed and a sour expression to go with it. The sorry sight brought a small smile to Goten's lips, although worry rushed into his lungs as he wondered what had become of his friend.

Vatet circled him to meet the soldier halfway, exchanging foreign words before she turned to Goten with a sweep of her arm in a partial bow.

"Officer Rhumar here will take you back now. I told him since you were so compliant during the exam and interview that you may be escorted consciously," she smiled, her words offered so magnanimously that Goten had to fight to keep his eyes from rolling.

Rhumar trapped roughly at his shoulder with his weapon, demanding Goten to his feet wordlessly. As he did so, he was nearly thrown off balance when the two cuffs on his arms magnetized to one another suddenly, pulling his wrists together. He tried to yank them apart, but the more effort he worked into it, he began to notice the light flickering on his binds. With a snarl, he dropped his arms in frustration and glared flatly at Vatet who now bore her most vicious grin to date.

"I said 'consciously', but the extra security measures still remain a necessity," she told him and crossed her hands behind her back as she strolled to her desk. "Now that your exams have been completed, the pair of you are encouraged to join general population. I will see you again soon, Saiyan. Please advise your mate that your first session will be in ten days."

"What-?"

"C'mon, monkey," Rhumar grumbled as he shoved the barrel of his gun into Goten's back, pushing him toward the exit. "Move your feet!"

"No, wait! What do you mean-" Goten was cut off with a crack against his face courtesy of the butt of the weapon, his head twisting forward again as blood eked out of the corner of his mouth.

" _Move_ ," the soldier rumbled, and Goten shuffled out begrudgingly only at the urgency of his guard. He casted one last withering look at the preening scientist behind him before the portal to her office closed her image from him.

/*/

Her head was pounding. Throbbing. It was going to explode.

And hovering somewhere in her mind was a vague sense of deja vu.

Had she been here before? Where was she?

Everything was heavy, her whole body, even breathing. Drowsiness clouded her as she rolled and pressed her forehead into cold, white stone. It grounded her.

… because she was on the ground?

Clammy palms pushed flat against the floor she was splayed out upon. Her limbs finally began to lighten, the air around her cleared, and the ringing in her ears dulled as the seconds stretched out. Groaning, her eyes fluttered to make out hazy white all around her.

Double vision tried to focus and the layout of the chamber began to harden. Bulla pulled herself upward into a slump and her heart rabbitted as she realized she was not in the same room she last remembered. This new, unfamiliar chamber was stark white from tiled floor to vaulted ceiling, much like Vatet's office, but vacant of anything other than a tinted double-sided window on the adjacent wall.

Bulla whipped her head around. Goten wasn't here. She reached out to try and sense his ki, but found a deafening nothing in return. Panic devolved into fear, sickness overwhelmed her.

"Hello…?" Her wavering voice echoed.

Then, a static click from above.

"Ahh, well that certainly didn't take long!" A raspy and unusual voice declared buoyantly. The speaker, whoever they were, was hidden. Bulla had a suspicion they were behind the darkened window, and she squinted to try and make out a silhouette. "We'll have to keep that in mind for next time, make sure the dose is sufficient enough!"

Feeling her strength returning, Bulla rose to her shaky feet. Her arms were free, she realized with a start, noticing the bands missing from her wrists. Without a second thought, she spun on her heel and fired a moderate ki blast at the window.

The energy hit the wall and disintegrated like a dying firework. Her heart sank as wiry laughter chirruped overhead.

"Nice try," the voice cackled. "You wouldn't be the first, girl."

"Who are you?" Bulla growled, becoming more agitated than afraid as she felt she was being toyed with now. "Where am I? Where's Goten?"

The static sound clicked again. "I'm Doctor Sebius. I'll be conducting this portion of your genetic skill baseline test."

Suddenly, memories flickered in and out. She had been with Goten; they had been debating finally giving in and eating. Guards had entered the kitchen, tried to separate them, and she had attacked-

Her brain stuttered to a halt and her body shuddered as it recalled the excruciating sensation her bands had incurred when she had struck the guard that grabbed her first. Bulla pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead to suppress the migraine that dared to scream forward. But after that, what had happened?

The last thing she remembered was Goten yelling her name.

Furious and confused even more, Bulla directed her palm toward the window again, shooting several small, sharp pink ki waves like gunfire. However, like the blast, each fizzled out upon contact.

"The walls are programmed with energy shock absorption," Sebius's voice crackled above her. "Please, don't waste yours. We would like an accurate reading."

"Let me out!" Her bold demand was met with another cackle.

"In time, girl," the doctor crooned. "Let's get this done, and I'll be happy to return you to your quarters and your mate."

Before she could ask for elaboration, an alarm began to sound. At the top of the wall farthest from her, a box illuminated with a circling, red warning light, flooding the white room in crimson. That same wall began to grind apart to reveal a pitch-black opening, and Bulla assumed a defensive stance.

She shifted a step closer on her toes and peered into the opened darkness, wondering whether or not to move further, when suddenly three pairs of beady, vermillion alien eyes peered right back. Her heart leapt into her throat, and Bulla canted her foot back to rescind that shuffle forward.

As soon as her ankle began to twist, three small green creatures scattered into the room. Each had claws like talons snapping at the ends of spindly arms and legs, abnormally swollen heads, and thick beaks that squawked in her direction. The aliens surrounded her, clicking and chirping at their prey, stalking her perimeter. Bulla tightened inward defensively, her arms raised for guarding, feet never picking up from the ground.

Overhead, Sebius commented droly, "These are our variant Saibamen. Perhaps you've heard of them? They've long been extinct, but through our advanced bioengineering and scant recovered genetic material, we've managed to resimulate them to some degree."

One of the creatures squalled wildly at Bulla, snapping its beak at her, and she flinched away.

"Hopefully, your Saiyan genes are the more dominant of the mixture," Sebius' voice clicked on again. "Guess we'll find out now, won't we?"

He called something in a different tongue, and the most agitated of the three aliens lunged.

Bulla jumped immediately, flipping into a series of back handsprings, intent to put significant distance between she and the three scrabbling monsters. They noisily chased after her, and when she landed several feet away, she had enough separation to collect a plan of defense.

Her hands lit with a flurry of purple ki orbs. One of the beasts wailed and fell, clipped by her blasts, but the other two persisted.

As one on her right approached, Bulla whipped a roundhouse across its beak, sending it to the ground. The other to her left clawed at her shoulder, but she ducked away, dodging down then pistoning up with a fierce blow to its middle. Its exterior was hard and it crunched inward but did not break, leaving her fist aching and distracted enough for the second grounded alien to return to the fray. The creature rose and snapped at her back, but Bulla flattened to the ground and rolled out of the way. She sprung from palm to heel and leveled another, larger energy blast at its feet.

From behind, the monster she had punched descended upon her, and Bulla leapt into the air on a pirouette aided by flight. Her heels connected to the back of its head, slamming it face first into the floor. Undeterred, its claws reached up and seized her ankle, and Bulla shrieked as it flung her across the floor.

Her shoulder skid along the tile, and Bulla seethed at the sting, curling in on herself. A shrill squawk sounded to her right as that alien raced toward her, and she gathered enough of her wits to shoot a close-range blast into the fist-shaped dent in its gut. It cried out in agony and wilted to the floor in a smoldering heap.

There was no doubt she could have easily taken them in Super Saiyan form, Bulla considered. However, something told her revealing that trait too soon might be foolhardy. She could fight these things without it, anyway; she just wished she had taken her father and Trunks up on more offensive lessons.

But defense had its rewards, too. She hopped up and backed away from the one she had kicked, its broken beak dripping purple viscous liquid, mixing with its drool. As the encroaching alien pounced, Bulla leapt and rolling tucked, landing deftly behind it. In the second it took to turn, she launched a purple flash into its face, and the creature screeched, collapsing and sufficiently blinded.

A searing, ripping pain alighted her side as hard claws pushed her torso down. The first beast she had taken out was upon her now, snapping its beak at her face, at her neck, straining to tear at her flesh. Bulla struggled to keep it at an arm's length, but its strength was immense - far more than she had assumed.

She curled her legs up to her stomach and planted her feet at its middle, her hands fastened around its arms, and Bulla centralized ki in her core to release a powerful burst. The alien hollered as its body illuminated, crackled, and the force of her energy sent it soaring. It landed with a thick sound several feet away.

Bulla lay panting on the ground, her forehead beaded with sweat, and a sticky wetness cooling under her back. Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself upright and looked around to find bright crimson slashes along her left shoulder and around her side, oozing blood that puddled on the floor.

She surveyed the room around her as the flashing red from before shut off and the fluorescent lighting resumed as normal. Three burnt, crumpled masses were deposited around the area. All of them were twitching, making pathetic chirping noises - and Bulla nearly wept in relief. She had never intentionally hurt another being in her life outside of sparring, and while the release of aggression felt freeing, she couldn't stop guilt from plunging in her chest.

"Well, that was impressive, I suppose," Sebius' voice chortled. "But I'm sure that wasn't the full extent of your power. Why were you holding back?"

Her jaw set, and tears welled in her eyes as her gaze raked over the aliens again. Bulla looked away in shame.

"I don't know what you want from me. I fought them for you," she bit out through clenched teeth.

"Why didn't you kill them? Wouldn't that have been easier?" Sebius questioned, voice almost edging on harsh. "Isn't that what you Saiyans do?"

"I don't," Bulla snarled and pushed up to her feet with a wince. Her hand flew to her torn side as she felt a fresh pulse of blood seep out, and she fought to hold in a groan.

Sebius made a skeptical sound. "Your father certainly had no qualms about it," he informed her. "I'm sure with a little more time, we'll find the apple doesn't fall far from the tree-"

"You don't know anything about my father," Bulla snapped, albeit uncertain of the correctness of her indignation. Her father's life before Earth was a complete enigma to her, with neither of her parents caring very much to divulge his history to her. For what she did know, it was a sordid past, but specifics were always left out. The idea that someone else - one of these captors - would know more about him than her was something that did not sit well within her.

The doctor hummed in amusement, surging another wave of uneasiness over her.

"I think you'll find there are many people who know your father quite well out here," Sebius told her darkly. "Watch yourself, child, and come prepared to bring it all in your next session. Medics will see you to the infirmary."

And the radio static sounded his departure. Bulla stood, chilled and shaking, in the middle of the room. His foreboding words unsettled her, and fresh nausea roiled in her stomach.

A ceiling tile opened above her head, and from it fell a grey canister. It clattered to the floor between Bulla's feet, popped its top, releasing a bluish fog that swarmed her.

Realization set in that this was the same chemical that they used to capture them from Earth. Her hand cupped over mouth and nose to fend it off, but it was to no avail. Her vision was already beginning to blur, her head began to swim, and Bulla fell weakly to her knees. She struggled to keep her hand over her face, but eventually her eyelids fluttered, and darkness overtook her senses.

The last she registered was her face hitting the hard floor.

/*/

"When was the last time you were in space, Vegeta?"

Gohan panted out the question, taking time for a breather from the rigorous training Vegeta and he had commenced a handful of hours ago. He had managed to keep pace for a short while, but going into the fourth hour, Gohan was once again faced with the fact he had obviously let his martial arts trainings slide. He was beet-red, drenched and exhausted, while Vegeta didn't appear to have even broken a sweat.

The older Saiyan completed another round of katas, before pausing to glare disdainfully at the winded Gohan. "A while," he answered shortly as he walked over to the console to snatch up his water bottle. He took several hard glugs, making quick work of the drink, and he crumpled it in his fist and tossed it aside. "When was the last time you bothered training?"

"I asked for that," Gohan breathily laughed and pushed up from the floor where he had collapsed a few minutes before. "Sorry, Vegeta! I'll keep up!"

"You wish," Vegeta rolled his eyes. He raised his hand to beckon Gohan toward him and bowed his head, "Take your best shot."

The eldest Son chuckled and assumed an offensive stance, raising one forearm to wipe at his brow. "Alright," he agreed. "But I can't say my best shot's much of anything right now!"

Vegeta smirked. "Surprise us, then."

In a flash, Gohan dived toward Vegeta, who easily zipped out of the way. They traded several blows and blocks, neither making any significant connection, until Vegeta disappeared then reappeared behind Gohan, landing a hard punch to his right side. Gohan coughed and his body lurched, and Vegeta took the opening to swing a fierce kick into the same spot. Before Vegeta could bring his foot down, Gohan recovered with a snarl, blocking Vegeta's leg with his bent right arm as his left hook clocked Vegeta's jaw.

Both jumped apart from the scuffle, breathing heavily and protective body language guarding their respective wounds. Gohan couldn't fight the grin from spreading over his lips as the adrenaline pumped through him. He may have been out of practice, but the fire was never truly out, was it?

"There may be hope for you yet, boy," Vegeta snickered, the back of his hand brushing away a smear of blood from his mouth. "You-"

An abrupt beeping noise rang overhead. The men froze. Trading wordless glances, Vegeta stomped over to the console to turn the gravity simulator off, and he followed Gohan back into the cockpit on a jog. When they arrived, they found a red alert flashing on the dash.

Vegeta assumed his seat at the helm, and Gohan leaned over his shoulder. The Saiyan typed into the dash, and three floating screens erupted from a projector on the main console. One revealed the immediate vicinity around their ship, another featured the area several hundred kilometers off, and another blinked a red text box with the words "INCOMING ALERT - S. O. S" down at their faces.

A gloved finger pushed the text box hovering in front of them, and it bloomed into weird symbols Gohan had never seen before. He noticed Vegeta's lips moving; was he reading that?

"Vegeta, do you know what that says?"

"It's a distress signal," Vegeta muttered under his breath, and Gohan watched a vein on his temple throb. "Whoever sent it crashed landed over here." He reached above and touched on the wider map, zooming in twice to show a small, rocky moon where a red pulse reflected back at them. His mouth turned down as he studied the image, with Gohan glancing back and forth between his face and the screen.

When Vegeta didn't elaborate further, Gohan bit the corner of his lip. "So, we should go help whoever sent it, right?"

Vegeta humphed and glared out of the corner of his eye. "No," he answered in a dull tone. "We stay on course."

"But Vegeta-"

"I'm not wasting any time on a signal that says nothing more than S.O.S and is dated," Vegeta squinted at the alert, "... two weeks old! Who knows if anyone's still there?"

"And who knows if they're not?"

His gloved fist pounded on the dash and Vegeta whirled around in his seat with a growl. "My only mission is to find Bulla and Goten and bring them home! I won't be distracted!"

Gohan shook his head and gestured at the screen, trying to keep his own temper in check and rationalize with the older man. "We've seen no one out this far in a day!" He ignored Vegeta's glower, pressing on, "So that means no one's probably come to help them. And if they've been here for two weeks and they are alive, we can't just leave them to die-"

"And what if they want that of us?" Vegeta stood swiftly, granting Gohan no quarter as he menaced into his space. "I've seen ploys like this, pirates laying in wait for some schmuck to stumble across their beacon, swoop in to play hero, then they take them for all their worth and leave their bodies behind."

The younger Saiyan turned away to frown at the vision of the moon, still flashing a red signal back at them. He couldn't sit by if someone was hurt or in need; he didn't have it in him.

"...Bulla would want you to stop and help," Gohan finally said in a soft voice. He felt Vegeta tense next to him. "And if she knew you passed up helping someone to save her first, she'd never forgive-"

He was yanked forward by the front of his shirt, brought nose to nose with the shorter man. Vegeta seethed in Gohan's face, his features contorted into loathing rage, and Gohan saw the conflict warring in his eyes. The fist holding him clenched a little tighter, before Vegeta all but threw Gohan aside with a frustrated grunt.

"Shut up and get a fucking suit on," Vegeta rumbled as he stalked out of the cockpit. He paused by the door, a deathly glare singled on Gohan as he brandished a finger in his direction. "And don't you  _ever_  use my daughter to against me, brat."

/*/

She was getting tired of looking at stark white walls.

Bulla sat hunched on an exam table, her hands holding up the front of her suit, while a short, blue cricket-looking alien in a lab coat worked at her injuries from the open back. She couldn't feel much besides tugging as he sutured her wounds, his claim of a 'fast acting anesthetic' being true. Of that, she was grateful. The doctor had attempted idle chatter at first, but Bulla made it clear she was in no mood and he ceased his efforts shortly after her arrival. Her personal escort stood nearby in the meanwhile, silent but observant - she supposed she was grateful for that, too.

The doors to the med bay opened, and a massive, teal humanoid - also wearing binds, she noted - was escorted in by three equally large and armed guards. Fleetingly, Bulla exchanged eye contact with the foreign person, before she ducked her gaze to her dangling feet. There was a bit of commotion between the doctor servicing her and the soldiers, as the teal-skinned man made himself comfortable on an infirmary bed two down from her to wait.

Two of the guards exited with salutes to the doctor, while a hooked-nosed creature stood fast by the foot of the man's bed.

"What's this one, then?" The man asked conversationally with a nod in her direction, his acknowledgement of her almost startling. "She's new, huh?"

Bulla felt herself blushing at his attention but kept her eyes trained on the floor. The doctor answered for her, "She is our new Saiyan acquisition."

"Saiyan? You're joking," the man scoffed in surprise, and she sensed his staring intensify. "... Hmph. Doesn't look much like a Saiyan to me."

"She's a half-breed."

"What's the other half?" His tone hedged on disgust.

"Some subspecies, 'human'," the doctor made a distasteful face. "From some backwater mud ball called 'Ee-arth'."

"It's  _Earth_ ," Bulla snapped, and she felt the doctor's hands flinch away from her in that moment.

The man snickered, and she stole another glance at him. He was eyeing her with dangerous interest, stirring queasiness in her empty belly, but she leveled a fierce glare in return to his staring despite her discomfort.

"Ahh, there, I see it now," the man pursed his lips in consideration as he met her gaze. "Yeah, you do look about as stupid as the rest of them did. Interesting coloring, I suppose." When Bulla's eyes narrowed, he chortled in open amusement, egging her further, "I thought Saiyans were too proud to lay with another species. Not that I'm surprised they'd find another mongrel to try and breed with, eh?"

The doctor tutted over her shoulder. "Female, pay him no mind, before you trigger a warning shock to yourself," he reprimanded, and Bulla sucked a breath in through her nose when she realized the blinking lights on her wrists, and she willed herself to relax. "Veron here has a personal vendetta against most other races-"

Veron shrugged, a smirk still firmly in place as he tied up his long purple hair into a loose bun at the back of his head, eyes unwavering on Bulla. "Doc's not wrong," he admitted, unabashed. "But come on, bitch, tell me this," the term brought Bulla turning her red and infuriated face toward him, and he granted her a mean grin in return. "Whose ancestor do you happen to be, huh? There were only a few of you monkeys that survived Frieza, so the genetic pool is pretty small."

Bulla frowned, unsure of whether to share her heritage. While her pride demanded she let him have it, Sebius' comment regarding her father rang in her ears, and she forced herself to turn away from the man instead.

"Smart girl," the doctor snorted.

"There's no such thing," Veron guffawed. "Maybe I'll make better use out of your male. Did they bring one back with you?"

Again, Bulla said nothing. The man shook his head and leaned back on the bed with a grimacing chuckle, and Bulla watched him from her peripheral. He seemed to favor his right arm as he settled gingerly on to his other side.

"Alright, hurry up, Doc," he groaned. "Meal is in an hour, and I'm fucking starving."

"You're finished, girl," the doctor pat the table beside her with one hand and deposited his tools on a tray with the other. Bulla slipped down from the table and reached a hand to tenderly touch at her side. At least she  _felt_ in tact. As she zipped the back of her suit back up, the doctor instructed, "Your stitches will heal up in a week, so try not to do anything excessive or strenuous that may tear them-"

"Better warn off your mate!" Veron cackled and Bulla turned bright pink, her hands tightening into fists at her side. "That is, if you're so lucky!"

His hooked-nosed soldier kicked a heavy boot against the bed to jostle him, growling, "Shut the fuck up before I fine you for instigation!"

"Fuck off," Veron crowed and kicked a foot back, both of them grinning viciously at one another. Their camaraderie was as surprising as it was obnoxious, and illuminated an idea in Bulla's mind.

"Come on," Bulla's purple soldier approached her now and nodded toward the exit. "Back to your homing room, then."

"Thanks…" she mumbled toward the doctor, but he had already begun to busy himself with the sniggering man. Veron's icy gaze met hers over the top of the doctor's head, just before she could turn, and the look he narrowed upon her sent a chill down her spine.

The female soldier guided Bulla out of the infirmary, and for the first time in a while she felt like she could breathe.

/*/

He sensed her before she'd even turned down the hallway to their quarters. The moment the homing room door opened, Goten was upon her, yanking Bulla away from her guard and into a tight embrace. However, she gave a pained yelp and jerked in his arms, and Goten pushed her away to arm's length, worry knit deeply between his brows as he scanned her from head to toe.

"What? What happened, are you okay?" He fretted over her, but Bulla waved him down with a grimace. That's when he saw it - slashes along the side and back of her suit, the exposed portion revealing red-stained bandages underneath.

His knee-jerk reaction was rage; white hot, blinding rage. But when he took in her downcast gaze, her pallid color, his heart sank guiltily and he pulled her in into another, gentler hug. And then there came relief, that she was actually still here. He couldn't help but reflect on Vatet's earlier comments as he folded her against his chest.

"I was worried about you," Goten confessed to the crown of her head, and he felt her body relax in his arms. "I'm so sorry, B-"

"Hey, it's not your fault," she sighed, a sound so weary. Goten drew back to look down at her, coaxing her face up with his palm, and Bulla smiled weakly at him, cinching his heart. Her hand covered his warmly as she assured him, "I'm okay."

Goten suddenly became hyper aware of the intimate contact between them, especially under the careful eye of her guard. He glanced up at the purple, scaly alien woman and took a cautious step back from Bulla, a threatening glower forming across his features.

"You just gonna stand there and stare?" He groused to the soldier, steadily growing more uncomfortable the longer she lingered in their space.

" _Shewat shedya_ ," Bulla's tongue moved around unfamiliar words as she gave a half bow then to the soldier, much to Goten's shock.

The guard dipped her head. " _Menda wheir_ ," she returned with a small smile, before the soldier flipped the visor of the helmet down and exited, leaving the pair alone again.

Goten stared at the closed door for a long moment, then turned a confused expression upon a rather smug-looking Bulla.

"Well, what the hell was that?" He half-laughed in bemusement and a little wariness.

Bulla shrugged with her non-injured shoulder as she made to move for the couch. Understanding her intention, Goten wrapped a guiding arm around her back to help her along the way. However unnecessary the gesture may have been, she didn't raise complaint, accepting his assistance and sitting carefully while he quickly rooted himself in the spot beside her.

"It means 'thank you'," she explained as she eased back against the cushions with a wince. "In whatever the language is here. She taught me after I asked her how-"

"Why would she do that?" Goten squinted at her suspiciously. "Why would  _you_  do that?"

His confusion drew an authentic giggle out of her, and the noise warmed him. "Geeze, don't sound so excited," she teased with a peek of her pink tongue past her lips. "I thought at least making some effort may do us some good while we're here, right?"

"You mean brown-nosing?"

"Whatever," Bulla huffed and wiggled to get comfortable. "Besides, she was nice-"

"Now I  _know_  you're brown-nosing."

She shoved him and he smiled at the familiarity of the moment, though it faltered when she drew in a sharp breath and fluttered a hand over her ribs. Goten sat up straighter and tried to duck to peek at her wound, and her leaning from him didn't go unnoticed.

"What happened here?" Goten asked with a nod at her side. "They said you had some… test today?"

Bulla nodded. "Yeah, something called a 'genetic skill baseline test'. They made me fight. I'm assuming they wanted to get a reading on my power."

At that, his eyebrows shot up toward his spiky hairline. "They made you fight someone?"

"Some  _thing_ ," she corrected, then doubled back, " _Things_."

"Things?"

"I don't know," Bulla muttered and ran a hand through her hair, tugging at a tangle along the way. "They had me locked in a room with these three monsters-"

"Damn, are you okay?" True alarm was beating in his chest now as he took her in again. He bit the inside of his cheek, but ultimately couldn't help himself from asking, "Can I, uhm…?" Goten nodded again toward her injury, and Bulla's cheeks went rosy at the unspoken request. "I mean, if you don't want-"

"No, no, it's fine."

Bulla sat up from the cushions and twisted so that her back faced him. She drew her long hair over her shoulder, and Goten's fingers reached for the zipper of her suit. He paused for her approval, which she gave in the smallest of inclinations of her head, and he tugged it down with the faintest tremor of trepidation. The pale skin of her back opened up to him as he brought the zipper down a little over halfway, and his fingers delicately plucked up the edges of her bandages.

Goten drew in an audible breath at the sight of her injuries The slashes were bright pink and fresh, but the stitches appeared to be good work. His fingertips ghosted over the jagged lines, raising gooseflesh over that area on her skin, and it was Bulla's turn to suck in air sharply.

He retracted his hand before she had a chance to exhale.

"Oh, shit, did I-"

Blue locks tumbled as she shook her head in dissent. "No! Sorry, just- ticklish," she pardoned sheepishly. "Uhm, how does it look?"

Goten tilted his head closer to her skin, peering at the doctor's handiwork. Nothing appeared worrisome, inflamed or ugly. He'd had more than a few stitches in his time to know, he thought. "Looks good to me... Did you get caught by some massive claws?" Goten observed. "You said three things?"

She nodded and he noticed her reaching to pull the zipper back up. Goten beat her to it, waving her fingers off as he re-zipped her to the nape of her neck, and he tried to forget what color the skin over her ribs looked like.

"I got them back, don't worry," she grumbled and turned back around. "But I was just tired and hungry- _god_ , I'm hungry!" Bulla whimpered as her hands pushed into her eye sockets.

"Hey!" Goten yelled, startling her from her misery. "Hey, hey, Vatet said we could eat!" Now he was practically jumping up, his hands reaching for hers to yank her to a standing, pulling- "C'mon, let's go!"

"What're you talking about?"

Her heels scooted along the tile as he all but dragged her into the hall, his mouth salivating, true spittle almost leaking out of his mouth. "The food! She said it's not poisoned-"

This time, Bulla yanked back, stopping him in his tracks. "And you believe her?"

"Well, she said they tried to lace the food before once," Goten half-mumbled, then grew louder, when Bulla opened her mouth to complain. "Buuuut it didn't work out! So they stopped! Plus, I guess other specimens were-"

"Don't call them ' _specimens_ '-"

"-Starving themselves like us, so they totally stopped so other  _people_ \- sorry - would actually eat!" He finished proudly, so sure this would brighten her mood right up. But when he saw no change in her expression, he deflated. "Aren't you excited?" His stomach ached and begged along with his heart that she _please, god, be excited_.

Bulla seemed to mull it over, glancing back and forth between him and the kitchen nearby. He could see her resolve breaking, and his beaming grin was back in place as he grabbed her hand and pulled again.

"B, let's go eat," he pleaded.

"...oh, fine,  _yes_ ," Bulla sighed and allowed herself to be tugged through the kitchen door, Goten whooping in exuberance.

/*/

"How did the Saiyan female's test go today?"

Doctor Sebius produced a few sheafs of paper, his three-taloned hand passing them to Vatet. "She did well, but she was clearly holding back," he muttered. "Wouldn't take a final shot against the Saibamen."

Vatet wrinkled her nose. "Why do you think that is?"

"The human in her," Sebius rolled his four eyes simultaneously. "From what I've seen of them, they're a weak, gluttonous, non-confrontational species."

"Well, that's too bad," the scientist rifled through the sheets, her fingers dancing over the readings printed out, and she raised hopeful eyes to the doctor. "But solvable, yes?"

"They're Saiyans," Sebius scoffed. "They live for battle. She certainly had natural instinct. I think if we up the ante on her, she'll show us what she's really capable of. How about the male?"

Vatet rotated in her chair from side to side after she laid the papers out on her desk, her long legs crossing as she considered her words carefully. "He'll be ready in the next few days. Let's see them get a little more comfortable. I'd like to schedule his baseline test closer to their first session." After a few strokes against the screen, she passed the doctor her tablet to review Goten's chart.

"That's nearly two weeks away!" He complained at her when he recognized the date on the screen. "You know Ku'am wants this report in earlier than-"

"Oh, calm down, Sebius," Vatet chastised. "You'll get your test in, I promise. But the ultimate goal is to produce some natural genetic material so we can get this project going. Ku'am wants to waste no time on the bottom line. We're at risk for interference."

"Interference?"

"Their families," she explained and double tapped on the tablet screen for him, revealing Vegeta's stern, pixelated face and several chats. "Her father, Vegeta, specifically."

Sebius tilted the screen up closer to his eyes and squinted at the frowning man before him. "That's the Saiyan Prince, huh? Doesn't look like much. Ku'am's afraid of  _him_?"

"There's your first mistake." She took the tablet from his hands and clicked on Vegeta's picture, opening up a few boxes of text and a column of small video clips playing in multiple boxes scrolling along the side. "Prince Vegeta was -  _is_ \- quite deadly. Dare I say he could take the Commander and our entire fleet head on-"

"Balderdash!"

"And the male's father," she continued, tapping again to conjure a smiling picture of Goku, "is Son Goku, the Saiyan who actually defeated Lord Frieza all those years ago on Old Namek."

"So tell me why we brought the boy and not  _him_ ," Sebius stuck his talon out to point at Goku. "Seems like he'd be the better acquisition."

She pressed a button along the side and tossed the tablet down on the table with a huff. "He's missing," Vatet groused. "Been missing for a while. Which is why the Commander isn't keen on dragging his feet. We can expect Vegeta and try to prepare for that, but who knows if Son Goku will show up? Neither are a risk we want to take."

Sebius nodded along with her, his talons interlocking in front of his face, elbows propped on his knees. "...Fine," he conceded after a long moment. "I'll give you five days."

"Seven and you can have them both at once," Vatet counter offered. She smirked at Sebius' shock. "I'd imagine one way to test their true strength would be against each other. What do you say?"

Her red hand slid over the table, and Sebius' talons gripped her slender fingers.

"A week it is, then, ma'am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyonnneeee! So this was one of my first attempts at writing action scenes! I hope the fights played out well for everyone. Let me know in your reviews! Thank you again for all of your support and feedback. I'm having such fun writing this story. As someone said in a review, yes, this takes place after GT, so Goku vanished with Shenron and no one knows where he's at. Whether or not he'll make an appearance remains to be seen - I'm really loving the Vegeta/Gohan team, though!


	7. chapter 7 (singular)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double chapter post because I was a chapter behind on here! We open this chapter with a splash of ~lemon~! Thank you all for taking the time to review and give me your feedback!

_Rough hands pushed smooth, alabaster thighs apart as he slid into her warmth, both of them full and groaning in unison. He was drowning in her. His head was dizzy, breath coming in short bursts, as her lithe body arched up into his embrace._

_Sinuous arms wove around his neck as she beckoned him down to her. Fervent and wet, their mouths melded in a kiss, and when he began to move above her,_ inside her _, she moaned against his tongue and his gut clenched wonderfully at the sensation._

_But then suddenly she was astride him, her soft palms pushing him down with a force he'd never enjoyed before with a lover, but only seemed so natural for them. It stoked the fire in him hotter, setting it brighter ablaze, and his grip around her waist tightened as she undulated faster, cried louder, all velvet around him._

_She fell forward on a sharp thrust of his hips, her panting breath heavy against his mouth and his name a whisper on her lips._

_His calloused fingers danced over her ruddy cheeks and cupped her face to draw her closer, wanting,_ needing _to taste her again._

_The delicate blue tendrils of her hair brushed his knuckles. He inhaled sharply her scent and marveled at how intoxicating she was, his brain pulsing_ her, her, her _as his tongue pushed into her mouth once again-_

Goten woke with a gasp, his whole body rigid as he jolted upright. Trembling, he ran a hand over his face as he attempted to rub at the remnants of the dream that had startled him awake. Like washing ashore from a shipwreck, he tried to desperately latch on to the details, but his mind would not allow it, the images that had roused him growing murky and far away.

Sighing, he sank back down against the pillow he'd been resting upon, trying to get comfortable. His eyes shut tight as he attempted to conjure what had scared him awake ( _he had been scared, right?_ )but all he could see behind closed lids was vibrant blue.

Something fell over his torso. Goten popped open one eye to find a silhouette haloed in aqua tucked against his left side. Bulla's head was nestled upon the curve of his shoulder, with one arm now slung high over his chest, her features set peacefully in slumber. They must have fallen asleep after their ransacking of the kitchen, he mused, recalling their contented collapse into the bed following the ravenous meal.

For the first time in days - maybe longer - he was awash in a glow of fulfillment. His belly was full, the bed was soft, and she was warm against him. Her gentle breaths tickled the skin of his neck pleasantly where the collar of his suit had turned down, and Goten allowed himself to drift away as he turned slightly into her.

A peculiar tingle ran down his spine and struck his groin, almost making him recoil in shock. Goten's eyes flew wide open as a flurry of vivid and salacious visions from sleep clouded his psyche uninvited, each of them starring the dozing girl beside him.

His mouth fell open in horror at the realization.

_Holy shit, did he dream about her?!_

It was impossible. He could never.  _Right?!_

Self-loathing melted sickly inside him.

Goten wished that he was resting anywhere else with anyone else in that moment, utterly unable to compute what his subliminal self had manufactured of its own volition.

As if on cue, Bulla mumbled and retracted her arm to curl it against her own chest, her face snuggling into the pillow underneath them. Goten remained frozen, still and solid and holding his breath until she had settled once more. When her breathing grew more measured, he pushed himself up from the bed quietly and made as stealthy an exit from the room as he could.

Once in the hall, he pressed himself against the wall, needing the support for fear of his knees going out on him. It was a broken record, the images of her face twisted helplessly in pleasure, the passionate movement of hips, and imaginary sighs and groans skipped over and over in his mind. He pulled at his hair in aggravation and wanted to rip each lewd visual out by the follicle.

How could his subconscious betray him like this?

Before his inner turmoil could run away with him, the bedroom door beside him parted. Bulla entered the hall with a fretful expression, obviously in search of him. Upon spotting him, her worried brow softened in relief, and she rested her back against the doorway.

Guilt hit him in the chest as he realized her fear. He couldn't bring his eyes to meet hers - not when the rotation still featured her.

"Here I thought maybe they took you again! I didn't even hear you get up." She yawned widely and gave a long stretch of her arms into the air, and he determinedly looked away. "What're you doing out here?" Goten glanced up to watch two thin creases begin folding between her eyebrows again. "You look sick… Are you alright?" Then, dismay. "Oh, no. Was it the food?"

When she moved forward with an outstretched hand, his body jerked back. Her concern deepened, and Goten waved her off, trying his best to pretend he was not as put off as he honestly was. "No! No, I just, uh … had a bad dream," he supplied with chagrin, chancing a bashful look up at her.

Bulla winced on his behalf. Every fiber in his being cried to run, get the hell out of here, but Goten did his best to play it calm and collected, even when her hand landed with a tender squeeze against his upper arm. Fire lit through his belly at the gesture.

"I've had a few, too," she empathized and somehow he felt worse. "It's been awful here... But I'm glad I'm with you, if that helps?"

The hopeful upturn of her voice brought a new ache to him. Goten mustered a smile for her, because - despite feeling like a complete creep now - he had to agree that having Bulla with him had made things easier to endure.

"It does," he admitted with a half smile. "I'm glad you're here, too."

The relief that floated between them was short lived, however. Looking down at her, remembering where they were … memories from his exam with Vatet cropped up unpleasantly, one in particular weighing on him, if given his dreaming.

"So, I didn't get a chance to tell you… Vatet said something weird when I was leaving her office after the exam." Goten paused, but Bulla was watching him avidly, waiting, and he heaved a sigh. "She said something like… To tell you that our first 'session' is coming up."

Her expression gravitated somewhere between fear, surprise, and mortification. His eyes drifted to the floor between their feet.

"...How long?" Her quiet voice sounded wet.

"Ten days."

Then, he felt her ki flicker. Goten looked up to find her glaring at the ground. Her gaze lifted a second after his, meeting him, and the defiant gleam in her eye commanded his attention at once.

"...Fine, then," she huffed and he raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I guess that means we have nine days to figure a way out of here, right?"

Goten couldn't fight the grin that tipped the corner of his mouth at her boldness. He nodded, encouraged by her surety.

"Or less," he added, pleased when she reciprocated his grin with a bright one of her own.

"So, when they had me in for that battle power test or whatever, they removed my binds," Bulla told him as she held up her wrists to him. "But they had to gas me to get me in the room and take them off then again to put them back on."

"Why didn't you blow a hole in the wall?"

Bulla pulled a face that reminded him he was an idiot and she was not. He had the decency to look ashamed. "Of course I  _tried_ , dummy," she chided him. "The room they had me in had precautions set up against that. But there's an opening to get in there, obviously, and they dropped whatever they used to knock me out from the ceiling when I was done."

His mind raced to catch up to her, getting excited about the beginnings of a plan. "So, what? You think we can escape that way?"

She shrugged. "Maybe? If we went Super Saiyan, maybe we'd be too fast and strong for them to stop us."

"Hard to tell when we don't know what they're capable of either. Do they know we can do that?"

"I didn't do it during the fight," Bulla said as she began to move toward the bathroom. His feet unconsciously followed in her footsteps. "I thought it was probably best to keep that close to the vest."

"Gotcha, good idea," Goten nodded in agreement, his hand catching the door to hold it open as she stepped inside. "I guess they'll probably run a test for me, too. I could try something then? But they've got some sort of extra security on me after I hit that second guard, so I don't know…"

"We'll figure it out," she assured him with a broad smile. Her confidence was contagious, he found as he stared down into her vibrant blue eyes. "We're gonna get out of here."

Yeah, the two of them could find their way out of this, couldn't they. They could make it out before…  _that_  situation. And again his dream flipped through his mind, rendering him confused and bewildered by its occurrence at all.

"Uh… Goten?"

Her uncertain voice started him up out of that descent, and he raised both eyebrows in overt attention and prayed he wasn't as red on the outside as he felt inside.

Bulla glanced behind her, then tilted her head at the door he was still holding ajar. "I need to use the bathroom," she said slowly as her fingers reached for the door handle. Goten shot backward awkwardly, nearly stumbling over himself as he did so, horrified at his runaway train of debaucherous thoughts. Unaware, Bulla just giggled, shaking her head at him as she shut the door.

Goten was left staring vacantly at the closed portal in the middle of the hall, unsure of what to with himself.

/*/

Vegeta had just finished zipping up his boot when the dash alerted him of an incoming call. He glared up at the screen, weighing his options, before his hand slapped down on the 'accept' button. At once, his wife's visage appeared on the screen, and he'd be a damn liar if he said the sight didn't offer him a modicum of comfort, despite the disconcerted expression she wore as she looked down at him.

"Just what are you two doing?" She half-barked, and he rolled his eyes in response. "Vegeta, I saw that you guys have been stalled for half an hour! What's going on?"

"Nice to see you too, woman," he grumbled, as part of him thought the better of telling her their intention.

Unimpressed, Bulma snarled at him, leaning close to her console. "Oh no you don't! Don't you dare do that thing where you ignore my question! You know I hate that!"

He repressed a smirk as he righted himself, his hands slipping on his white gloves as he ate up every second of her indignant glare. "How's the weather down there?" He queried with conversational leisure.

"Vegeta!"

"Oh, hey Bulma!" Gohan greeted as he entered the cockpit, fashioned in a new Saiyan battle suit provided by Bulma. Vegeta was struck with annoyance at his intrusion. "How's it going? Have you heard from Videl today?"

Bulma smiled wide at the boy, sparking a fleeting wave of jealousy through Vegeta's chest. "Hey, that suit looks great on you! Videl and Pan were just here this morning, and they said to send you their love," she told him tenderly. "I was just asking Vegeta why your ship has been stopped for so long, but he's being a prick. All the readings seem fine, is something wrong?"

Gohan clapped Vegeta on the shoulder, heedless of the older Saiyan's irritation at the gesture. "Ah, a distress signal came in today from a nearby moon. We're gonna check it out, see if there's anyone there that needs help."

Worry crept into her features, and Vegeta privately appreciated his woman's brilliance and rational understanding of such a situation. Her eyes darted uncertainly to his face, and he inclined his brow subtly in return. "Are you guys sure it's safe?"

"Would you presume we continue on instead?"

Vegeta wasn't sure what answer he was hoping she'd respond with when he posed the question. Gohan glanced between the couple dubiously, but Vegeta kept his gaze trained on his wife, awaiting her instruction on the matter.

There was a stretch of silent consideration, before Bulma finally shook her head and settled back in her chair. "Go ahead," she assented. "But be careful, won't you?"

Both men nodded in return. As the call finished, they resumed gearing up, silence between them heavy as they readied themselves for the unknown.

/*/

Bulla and Goten had just enough time to brush their teeth when three guards appeared in their quarters. Apparently, being "encouraged" to join general population actually meant "being forced under threat of physical harm" they found when they initially declined instruction to move.

Goten's binds snapped together again as they were ushered out of their homing room, he flanked by two of the soldiers as Bulla was escorted by her earlier purple-hued guard. While he made to complain, a gentle nudge in the ribs from Bulla reminded him that keeping his mouth shut was the better choice.

They were marched through the halls, taking few turns, before the chamber they entered opened into a massive atrium with five other hallways. Their guides lead them down the first deviation to their right, and both hybrids were struck in awe at the various aliens - either soldiers or specimens, as designated by uniform or armor - that paraded by them. Most seemed either nonchalant or apathetic to being present here, and nearly every specimen was a duo of male and female.

Bulla swallowed and shifted her step closer to Goten. He looked around to find the source of her discomfort, and there by a vending machine of sorts was an exceptionally tall humanoid alien with deep blue coloring and lengthy extremities. Her long fingers were laid against the curve of her very large belly, an uncomfortable expression scrunching her face, as two guards beside her barked commands up at her.

"Do you think she's okay?" Bulla whispered.

Goten shrugged, battling an inner war with himself to go over there and harass those soldiers with equal fervor. Bulla seemed to sense it, as he felt her hand on his forearm, rousing him away from the scene.

"Don't," she told him in a firm, quiet voice. "I want to too, but not now, okay?"

He couldn't ignore the pleading in her tone. Goten clenched his fists together and begrudgingly looked the other way as they continued being lead along. They eventually emptied out into what appeared to be a cafeteria. It was a large public space filled with tables and chairs, pairs and officers, and a serving line on one side. The smell of questionable food wafted around them, and had they not already made short work of their pantry in their quarters, Goten would be sniffing out the source.

"This is where you will take your meals," the purple guard announced to the pair of them. "Twice a day, morning and evening-"

"Don't we have a kitchen?" Bulla turned to the woman in confusion.

"Your homing room comes complete with a galley that is stocked monthly, yes," the guard answered in a bored tone, and she either missed or chose to ignore both Saiyans' shocked staring. "However, its use is only necessary during abnormal occasions, such as during introduction, quarantine, lockdown, or parturition."

"What does that mean?" Goten shook his head between the disinterested guards and a blushing Bulla. "Nutrition?"

" _Parturition_ , you dope. It means 'pregnancy'," Bulla grumbled through her teeth, and Goten tinted about as pink as she with this newfound vocabulary he had acquired.

The soldiers directed them along the wall as they observed the comings and goings of the populous milling about. If it weren't for his understanding of what was expected of the captives here, Goten would have believed at first glance that this place was a comfortable place to be stationed. However, it was that very complacency that only added to his unease.

As the guards rattled on about meal schedules, Goten became acutely aware that someone was staring in Bulla's direction. His gaze skimmed the area, finally resting on a larger, teal-toned man who appeared quite fixated on the blue-haired girl by his side. Almost instinctively, Goten flexed his fingers to hold her hand, but his binds were still fastened together in front of him.

"Someone is looking at you," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth at Bulla, who was staring ahead, unblinking.

"I know."

"Who is that?" When she didn't glance over, something nervous tickled in his gut. "Do you know him?"

Bulla shook her head, and he could see her blue irises dart into the corners to peek at the other man. Goten looked over at him much less covertly, and he did appreciate the smirk that guy was wearing on his ugly mug nor the way he was eyeing Bulla like lunch.

"Well, he seems to know  _you_."

Bulla snorted and lifted her nose a little higher in the air. It was a snotty look Goten hadn't seen in years, one that conveyed all of her disdain and haughtiness at once, so very reminiscent of her father. The sound of the man's laughter from afar bubbled annoyance in his chest and Goten threw him a nasty glower.

The alien only grinned in return, mean eyes now narrowed on Goten. His lips were furled in a ruthless sort of smile that brought Goten hovering closer to Bulla's side. Whatever his intentions were, it was evident none of them were good, and the protective streak Goten had been nursing over Bulla multiplied tenfold. Thankfully the guards had begun to steer them back out toward the main hall. As they followed the full circle through the cafeteria, Bulla did her best to pay the other man little mind, but Goten made a point to return his staring the whole way around.

And the teal man stared right back, not intimidated in the least.

The rest of the tour consisted of locating the public restrooms, laundry room ( _Bulla huffed at realizing she would have to do her own_ ), the laboratory wing ( _Vatet passed them in the hall with a winking smile for Goten, who flushed as Bulla seethed_ ), the regeneration rooms and conditioning ward ( _they exchanged curious glances when they sensed vibrating power levels of varying degrees_ ), and finally the assignment office. This office was smaller than any of the other rooms they had explored, almost cramped and barely big enough for all of them and the Assignment Operator.

"AO", as the guards called her, was an oblong creature with four-fingered hands, a wide-set pair of bulbous eyes, and a shrunken snout. She appeared rather nasty as she surveyed them up and down with a sneer.

"Sit," she grunted at the two, and both were pushed down into the seats by the guards behind them. "Binds."

When neither of them moved at her command, AO snarled and one soldier behind the pair jacked Goten in the shoulder with his weapon. "Show her your bind, Saiyan."

Repressing the urge to clock the soldier with his locked fists, Goten obliged alongside Bulla and they both presented their wrist fastenings to the grumbling alien. She scanned them with a small tablet, no bigger than a cell phone, and it beeped whining tones at her. AO grunted to herself and held the device up for the guards collected behind them, and Bulla and Goten squinted at the unusual pixelated print.

"She reports to Lab 27.D and he can go to Loading Bay 4.B, there ya go."

"Is that wise?" One of the helmeted guards to Goten's left questioned in apprehension.

"It's what's decided-"

"Wait, what's going on?" Bulla interjected then, agitated at being spoken around as though she were not present. "What are you talking about?"

AO glared and wrinkled her snout, which consequently nearly made the middle of her face concave. "You're getting your assignments, that's what,  _sweetie_. She's mouthy, isn't she?" The operator had turned and posed her assessment to the purple guard, who hitched a non-committal shoulder.

Goten raised an eyebrow, the gears in his brain shifting to a halt. "Assignment? Like homework?"

"What the hell is 'home work'?"

"Oh! From, like, school and stuff," Goten explained, missing Bulla's drawn, exhausted sigh, and he glanced in confusion over at his companion who had shoved her face into her palm. "I, uh, haven't been in school in a few years-"

"Goten,  _no_ ," Bulla muttered between her fingers. "Not that kind of assignment."

"But then what-"

"Ohhh, would you both shut up?" The rotten creature grouched, effectively silencing the two. "Whiny little beasts. You're getting  _jobs_ , so you can earn your keep around here. You think all this stuff's free?"

"I mean, Vatet said it was free..." Goten mumbled.

Bulla, however, scoffed and dropped the hand from her face to reveal an indignant frown. "I thought the whole 'breeding' thing or whatever was what 'earned our keep'!" Her words dripped like acid, accompanied by condescending air quotes as necessary. "So which is it? Have we been taken to a labor camp or a puppy mill?"

AO smirked and shrugged as she gestured outward with open palms. "How about both?" When that did not seem to be the answer Bulla was looking for, the operator's smirk grew wider. "What do you want me to say, sweetie? You belong to the Commander and this team now, and we will use you as we see fit. You will go where you're assigned, and you will do a passable job if you don't want them to make use of you somehow else. So, then, how about both?"

Her explanation left the two of them in disquietude. Satisfied by her rendered reaction, AO cracked her knuckles and pointed at Bulla with a smugness Goten wanted to smash. "You report to your Department Agent, they'll tell you what needs done, ya do it. Earn your credits for the week, spend it how you like. Disobey or cause grief, you get 'em taken away."

With a snort, the operator hopped down from her chair and rounded the desk until she reached the door, which she opened wide. "Now, get the hell out of my office."

Off her command, the soldiers urged Goten and Bulla up from their seats, barrels of guns settled against spines and tension down to their bones.

/*/

The landing went pretty well, all things considered. Gohan had been a little apprehensive about letting Vegeta pilot, but he realized shortly after that Vegeta had plenty of experience flying through space. Certainly, he had more than himself. It was almost like watching someone climb on a bicycle after many years, the familiar ease that settled in not long after Vegeta's initial glance over the controls.

As the vessel shuddered and jolted, landing gracefully into the carefully selected rocky valley, Vegeta flipped several switches and the sounds of powering down echoed around the cockpit. The lights overhead dimmed, and the engine hummed as it rested. The Saiyan prince unbuckled himself and Gohan followed suit, both of them moving toward the hatch in turn.

Vegeta exited the ship first. The hatch creaked apart from the body of the ship, opening up the dusty valley to their squinting eyes. The rocks around them were reddish grey in color with flecks of purple and gold buried hither and yon in the walls. The men jumped from their perch on the ship, each landing deftly on the surprisingly soft terrain. Gohan bounced on his toes a little, the half-second of weightlessness making him snicker. Vegeta rolled his eyes at his juvenile amusement.

"Hey! The ground's bouncy here!"

"Tch. It's a probably a composite of sodium aluminate and low-density polymer," Vegeta assessed, testing the buoyancy for himself with the tip of his boot. He tapped his toe and the ground recoiled just enough to lift his heel up and down again. "You typically see it in high-pressure regions, usually in the aftermath of a multi-source collision."

While Goten definitely understood the words Vegeta was speaking, his scholarly ventures didn't delve much further in the science field beyond biochemistry. The surety with which Vegeta spoke of the environment reassured Gohan that being his traveling companion was not a mistake. In fact, there could even be more to learn yet from the older man.

They half-walked, half-bounced their way around the ship, being lead by the glowing beacon on the hand-held radar Vegeta wielded. The flashing light on the screen's face told them the signal was originating about 64 kilometers to the southwest; a blink of an eye if they flew.

Gohan nodded at the screen, wondering aloud, "Should we fly, ya think? It's not very far."

Vegeta mulled over the suggestion before his mouth turned down, and he gave a small nod. "Just keep low and conceal yourself. We don't know what kind of readings they may have on us or the equipment in their possession."

Two pairs of boots levitated off the ground. Glancing to one another, each nodded on their go, and blurring white ki trails drifted in their wake as they chased the signal south.

It didn't take long before the small blinking orb had begun to take up most of the screen. As they neared, both slowed their flight to a idling glide, before the remnants of a crashed pod appeared before them. Not far off, there was a haphazard shelter constructed against another wall of rock. Vegeta and Gohan landed quietly, hopping to regain their footing on the unusual earth. Silently, they crept up behind a partition of boulders that separated them from the crash site. Vegeta's thumb shut off the monitor, and he pocketed it in the breast of his suit.

"Doesn't look like a big ship," Gohan observed, peering around chips in the rock to make out the side of the ship. "It looks like it says something..."

"...It says Galactic Conservation Institute," Vegeta's voice venomously hissed. "It's a fucking  _escape pod_."

Gohan whipped his head toward Vegeta, both of his eyebrows arched high. "EH?!" He looked around the boulders again, reaching out with his senses for his brother or the young woman he knew well. When neither ki breached his awareness, he shook his head in dismay. "It's not them-"

He barely had the time to finish the sentence and glance back at Vegeta when he found that the older man had already stalked onward, now halfway to the pod. Gohan gasped and scurried as quickly and quietly as he could to catch up. When he fell in step with his companion, he grumbled, "Warn me when you move next time, Vegeta!"

"Pay closer attention, boy. I'm not going to hold your hand." Vegeta inched toward the broken hull, casting sidelong looks at the lean-to by the rock wall. "Of course it isn't them, you idiot. This signal's been running for two weeks, remember?" He ducked his head to peer into the small pod. From Gohan's vantage point over Vegeta's shoulder, he could tell the thing couldn't hold more than two people at most. A small dust pile was collecting on the dash and seats from where the wind had blown it in, and there on the console was the flashing distress source, which the Saiyan prince flicked off.

They backed away from the pod, huddling together against the side of the ship. "Should we look in that?" Gohan asked, pointing toward the shelter. "I mean, I don't sense anyone in there, but that doesn't mean someone isn't."

"Could mean they're dead," Vegeta countered darkly with a shrug.

"Thanks for that," Gohan rolled his eyes. "Way to look on the bright side, Vegeta."

Vegeta sneered viciously in return. "You haven't yet learned why they call space 'the black', boy. Keep your bright side to yourself; you're going to need it." The man stood, a wind gust whipping his spiky mane aside and whirling dust around them both as he narrowed his gaze on the lean-to. "We'll check the shelter. If no life is present, we'll strip the pod for any information and be on our way. Let's go."

/*/

Humiliation hadn't stopped coursing painfully through her breast even after they had long since left AO's office. Bulla should've been prepared for someone to speak to her so brashly - it's not like it was the first time - but for whatever reason the operator's derisiveness had left her face hot and tears stinging in her eyes. That coupled with the aggravation of further expectations set upon them was almost harrowing for the young woman.

She wasn't blind; Bulla was well aware of the comfortable life she had been allowed to live, having had not much in the way of responsibility laid upon her in her youth, neither had she seen much trial or tribulation as her brother and Goten had. But here, now, in this place? Everything made it almost glaringly obvious. Maybe she could take care of herself physically compared to most others, but what about in other circumstances? Bulla always thought she was brave enough, smart enough - but now she wasn't so sure.

Their escorts only briefly showed them down the credits hall where small 'shops' and kiosks lined the dingy walls. Bulla could feel Goten's worried eyes dancing over her profile, but she couldn't meet his gaze, still too caught up in her self-pity. She instead busied herself with feigned interest in the commodities and vendors, mood only slightly buffered by the window shopping.

Elevators brought them back to the main atrium, and they were returned to their homing room. Goten's connected shackles came apart as soon as they crossed the threshold, and Bulla watched sympathetically as relief flooded him and he made windmills of his limbs.

The purple alien stood in the doorway, the other two soldiers waiting outside the room. "With your tour complete, you are welcome to enjoy the many amenities provided," she told them both, unamused by Bulla and Goten's mutual eyerolls. "Female, as you have one demerit on your account, you must notify security when you leave your quarters. Failure to do so will result in a second demerit."

She turned then to Goten. "As you have two against you, you must be accompanied by an officer anywhere outside this room. A third demerit will result in further consequence." He would not grant her a single look, his dark eyes drilling into the side wall. Bulla could make out the tightening of his jaw as he clenched it.

"You both will report to your assigned posts no later than 0700. Instructions will be delivered to the terminal at the rear of your homing room. I assume you both know what will occur should you be tardy or absent."

The pair of them stood with their gazes averted from the female soldier. After it became obvious silence was all she would receive in turn, the woman bowed her helmeted head and turned out of the room, leaving them alone once more.

As soon as the door was shut, Goten rounded on Bulla. Her chest tightened in anticipation, as she could sense his ki flare in annoyance. "Okay, what the hell was up with that guy?"

"What guy?"

Goten narrowed his eyes at her, shaking his head, not buying her ignorance. "Bulla…"

She sighed heavily and rubbed at the headache building behind her brow. "He was just … some person, another captive. He was in the infirmary when I was getting stitches."

"And?"

"And he was nosy, asking the doctor about me," she grumbled her way to the back hall, Goten on her heels. "His name was… Veron, I think? He wasn't very nice."

Suddenly, Goten had his hand around her upper arm, turning her around to face him and stopping her in her tracks. She groaned in annoyance, leveling him with an exasperated pout. " _What_ , Goten?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" His tone bordered between accusatory and disappointed. It stung under her skin, just a bit, when coupled with his uncertain eyes. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing! He just obviously isn't a fan of Saiyans, or honestly probably anyone!" Bulla pulled her arm from his hold, her flesh tingling where his fingers had been. "And I didn't tell you because I didn't want to make a big deal out of it!"

"Yeah, but-"

"Goten!" Her boot stomped once, irritation scratching its way to surface now, and he gaped at her. "All I want is to try and lay as low as possible until we can plan our escape from here! I don't want to draw any more attention to us, and then you just had to go and make stupid faces at him!"

Goten went still at her reprimand, though slowly his features began to bend in offense. "I was just trying to-"

"Trying to what?" Bulla snapped. "Start another fight?"

"You need to tell me if something like that happens again," he told her seriously, trying to provide the calm to smother her temper, but another command was the last thing Bulla wanted to hear. "You're my responsibility."

Her cheeks flared rose. "I'm not your _responsibility_! I'm not some kid you're babysitting here, you jerk!"

That immediately stopped whatever righteous anger was beginning to bud fresh in his throat. Goten closed his mouth, eyes wavering over her incensed features, and she saw him visibly deflate before her. Why that made her breast ache, she didn't know, but his apologetic frown that followed only made it worse.

"You're right," he amended, and her shoulders sank. "I'm sorry, B. I just-" Goten glared at the floor, his hand rubbing over his creased forehead as he seemed baffled and conflicted in some way she couldn't understand. "...I just want to keep you safe," he finally decided on the appropriate words as his earnest eyes found hers.

How he could look at her like that, like she was valuable to him - it stole her breath away and reminded her of nervous butterflies cocooned in her belly from years before.

Swallowing, Bulla released the tension in her shaking hands, wanting desperately to reach for him in that moment. Instead, she shook her head, at him and at herself.

"Yeah, well I want to keep  _us_  safe," she spoke softly, and her inflection dredged a self-effacing chuckle from his chest that infuriated the blush still staining her cheeks. "And that plan is the smarter one of the two, so stop trying to ruin it, okay?"

Goten nodded his agreement, though he was at a lack of words as he stared at her. He seemed almost defeated as he stood there not more than three feet apart from her, a silent discordance floating in his gaze. On the tip of her tongue was the question  _is something wrong_ , but instead she moved forward and embraced her friend around the neck tightly. His hands hesitated before falling around her waist.

"I won't keep secrets again," she promised to the curve of his ear. "I'm sorry."

His head shook against her temple, and his broad shoulders arched in a shrug under her forearms. Bulla began to pull back, only pausing to press an impulsive peck against his cheek, when his hands tugged her a modest distance away from his torso.

Goten's features were wrought with absolute shock, his mouth hanging open and eyebrows lost in his spiky black bangs. Bulla had to admit she was surprised with herself as soon as she realized her misstep, and she was positive her complexion would never turn a normal shade again. But in the second that shock began to morph into apparent confusion, she yanked away with the intention of hiding herself in the nearest room that Goten didn't occupy.

Strong hands held her fast however and drew her in again, and Bulla didn't register much more after that than the brush of his nose against hers when his lips pushed into her own.


	8. chapter 8 (atypical)

Her heartbeat, or maybe it was just his own, thumped loudly in his ears and between them, and he sighed through his nose at the comforting sound.

There was some vague flavor about her that he couldn't place, but sorely wanted to.

And she smelled  _so_  good.

And her lips were  _so soft_.

Had kissing anyone ever been such a sensorial experience before?

Her hands cinched the fabric at the front of his suit, and it was like an electric shock jolted him back. Goten pulled away from her, noses bumping, her glittering, wide blue eyes taking up his immediate field of vision. And he was at a loss.

"...What are you doing?" Her breathy words fell warmly against his suddenly very dry lips. Goten glanced down at her pink mouth, back up to her eyes, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

...Oh, shit.

_Oh shit._

His hands released her as though burned by the touch of her. "I-I'm sorry!" He spluttered, crimson from head to toe, and he suddenly needed to be far,  _far_ away from her.

"Goten...?"

Ducking his head, Goten bowed his way past her hastily, all but flying his way down the hall into the bathroom, leaving Bulla standing frozen in the common area.

The door slammed shut behind him as he pushed his back against it. All the air he had been holding in his lungs expelled in one go as he doubled over, hands on his knees, eyes screwed shut. What the  _fuck_ was he doing?  _Why_ did he do that? Did he have a death wish?

A knock sounded behind him, and Goten went still.

"Goten! Come out here!"

He stayed silent.

"Goten!"

Again a knock, a little softer this time. "Goten, please?"

Her melancholy voice hurt and guilt trickled down into his gut. He pressed the back of his head into the door and tried to measure his breathing, ears straining to listen to her on the other side. After another long moment of silence from him, he heard her footfalls drift away, and Goten slumped in relief.

His eyes darted to the shower, and he nodded to himself, wondering what the coldest setting it had was.

/*/

There wasn't much in the way of items assembled in the hurriedly built shelter, just a few boxes of rations, tattered blankets and pillows, and a first aid kit strewn about.

And a dead body.

Gohan stood frozen by the entrance when they initially came upon it, horrified at the sight, until Vegeta pressed forward into the camp unfazed.

"Vegeta!" Gohan gasped, but the older Saiyan paid him no attention as he began to root through the scattered items.

Tentatively, Gohan inched around the carcass. The deceased creature was insectoid in appearance, with one of its antenna snapped in half, dressed in a dirty, grey jumpsuit. From its midsection, it had been oozing purple from an ugly wound that had been messily bandaged. Gohan assumed it had probably been there for a few days, a week at most.

"Do you think this is one of them?" Gohan wondered, lowering into a couch at the corpse's side. "It looks like it's been here a while…"

" _He_ ," Vegeta corrected as he slammed a ration crate closed. He glanced over his shoulder, aiming a nod at the creature's head where another violet, gooey wound had started wilting in necrosis underneath a sodden patch. "Orange antenna."

"How do you-?"

"I'm familiar with the species," Vegeta grumbled darkly, now approaching Gohan's side. He glared down at the limp figure and his scowl depended. "That's a male Gratya. Their planet was purged by Frieza for its core material. It was composed of a natural high-grade explosive."

Gohan nodded solemnly. But when Vegeta knelt by him and reached for the creature's body, he made to snatch his forearm. Just as quickly, however, Vegeta deflected him with a growl and harsh smack.

"Don't fucking touch me."

"It's disrespectful!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes then resumed his search of the corpse, much to Gohan's disgust. "How the hell do you expect us to find anything of value? He's dead - respect isn't going to do him any good now."

Perturbed by the scene, Gohan stood to turn away, but a flicker in the corner caught his eye. And, given Vegeta's stillness, the other Saiyan had seen it too.

With the stealth of an apex predator, Vegeta stalked low to the far corner, and in a flash he reached out, snatching a smaller version of the corpse from the corner out of seemingly thin air.

The insect croaked out a cry of fear, bug eyes bulging when brought face to face with Vegeta.

"Please, no!"

"Quiet!" Vegeta demanded of it harshly, giving it a hard shake by the front of its jumpsuit that he had tight in his grasp. "Are you from the Galactic Conservation Institute?"

When the trembling alien refused to speak, he gave it another gruff jostle. It squawked and flailed its arms.

"Yes, yes!" It answered fretfully. "W-we escaped not long ago! Please, please, don't send us back!"

Gohan knelt by the insect's side, trying to be a reassuring presence against Vegeta's threatening one. "Hey, hey, we aren't here to send you back," he vowed, hoping to settle this calmly, and slowly the creature began to still in its shaking as it looked frightenedly between the two men. "We're looking for others who were taken by them, too."

"What happened here?" Vegeta questioned, his head inclining toward the dead body behind them. At the motion, the alien hiccuped and bowed its head, and Vegeta narrowed his gaze at its blue antenna. "Was that your mate?"

The insect nodded as it began to weep. "Yes... we stole an escape pod, but we ran out of fuel and crashed here," she whispered, her wild eyes darting back and forth between Vegeta's fierce face, her mate's body, and the entrance. "But the pod's aid kit wasn't enough…" Her words were lost in a distraught sob.

"I'm sorry," Gohan shook his head, his heart truly going out to the alien. "That must've been horrible for you."

"H-he died before they came, but they're going to find us-"

"Who?" Vegeta barked.

She looked up at him with terrified iridescent, bulbous eyes. "The hunters," she told him in a hush as she began to tremble again. "They were only a few days behind us. We had no time to prepare."

Vegeta wrinkled his nose and released her a little forcefully, the alien falling to her bottom with a bump.

"They're here, now?"

"Th-they're cloaked, but I think they're docked somewhere north."

"How have you made it this far?" Gohan asked as Vegeta began sniffing around the back corner of the lean-to. "How did you steal the pod?"

"They can camouflage for short periods," Vegeta answered for her, and Gohan glanced between them. The insect nodded in agreement with a wary eye kept on Vegeta's back.

"We both worked near the hangars, and we got lucky… until we crashed… I've just been trying to hide from them for as long as I can." She looked at Vegeta, then Gohan again, telling him seriously, "I won't let them take us back there. We'd sooner die."

"Looks like half of you beat you there," Vegeta grumbled, ignoring Gohan's aghast whisper of his name. "What do you know about the hunters? Weapons? Armor?"

The alien shuddered and wrapped her wiry arms around her fragile body. "Blasters," she said. "That's all I've seen. I don't know what they have on board their ship…"

"Wanna take care of it?" Gohan asked Vegeta as he stood to join his side. "I can stay here-"

A high-pitched hum echoed from where the alien had sat behind them, followed by a gutteral choking sound. Both Saiyans jerked around in time to find the female collapsing to the floor with a sizzling, gaping purple wound on her shoulder.

Another hum, accompanied by a pinpoint laser of vibrant orange, shot roughly around the same spot and seared through the metal of the adjacent wall. Vegeta grabbed Gohan by the back of the neck and shoved them both down flat on the ground.

The alien twitched across from them, her large eyes rolling up to meet Gohan's wide ones. Saucered in terror, her gaze drifted then to the corner, and Gohan followed her line of sight, finding nestled amid a pile of blankets a large, greyish colored egg.

He nodded at her in understanding, then nudged Vegeta next to him. The older Saiyan growled in retaliation, but Gohan gestured toward the egg pointedly, and stern realization passed over his features.

"Stay here with her," Vegeta muttered. He pushed himself up to a crouch, maneuvering carefully toward the egg. The insect cried out in protest, but he ignored her, rising up with it tucked under his arm. Heedless of her desperate clawing at the ground and Gohan's furious calling after him, Vegeta stormed past them both and back out of the shanty.

/*/

When he finally shut the water off, Goten's skin had long gone numb and the pruning on the pads of his fingers even had prunes. He wasn't sure how long he had tried to drown himself under the icy spray, maybe twenty, thirty minutes - however long it took to get himself in order.

Stepping out of the shower was a terrible experience, but he wrapped himself in one of the thin towels he'd left before to try and stave off any self-inflicted hypothermia. Goten stalked over to the mirror and gazed long and hard at himself. He looked tired; bags under his eyes, skin pale, eyes dark. He wondered when the last night of good sleep he'd had was - previous round of sleep after annihilating the kitchen excluded.

How long had they even been here? Time seemed irrelevant and virtually untraceable.

Long enough for him to turn into a big freaking weirdo and make unwanted advances on his best friend's sister, he supposed.

Embarrassed of himself all over again, Goten dragged a hand roughly over his face. What had compelled him to kiss her like that? It was like some psychotic impulse, driven in him by almost exclusively entertaining her company and the idea of sex being tossed around over their heads at any given turn. He'd never considered her like that before, right? And when was the last time he had even  _had_  sex? Was that the real problem?

Paris' face watercolored across his mind, and sadness ran over him - but not with the strength that it had before. And just as quickly, he imagined Bulla, and somehow that hurt more.

Resigning himself to shut it out, Goten grabbed up his toothbrush and paste, intent on scrubbing away the reminder of his mouth on hers.

He exited the bathroom shortly after, head canting this way and that down the hall.

"Bulla?" Goten tentatively called, unsure of whether or not he actually wanted her to respond. When she didn't, he felt a bit of relief and a lot of remorse. He walked over to the linen closet to grab a new suit, quickly dressing, before he commenced searching the homing room for her.

Calling her name again, he did not find her in the common area or kitchen, nor in the bedroom. Panic began to race his heart again.

He ran down to the back of the hall where the black terminal was illuminating the wall upon which it was mounted. Unsure of how to use it, he tapped his forefinger against the screen's three buttons furiously until "LAB 27.D - FLOOR 3, ROUTE D, LAB 27" ticker-taped across the face.

A chill entirely unlike that of his shower washed over him. Goten groaned in aggravation, having no clue how to find her, or how'd she even figured out how to use the machine. He squinted at it, finding a red button in the corner of the screen and a blue button with a megaphone shape beside it.

Without extra time to second guess himself, Goten pressed the blue button, and immediately was greeted by an electronic female voice.

"Service Line."

Goten hesitated. "I… uh, I don't-" What was he going to ask? Where she went? How to get there? "I … don't know where my friend went."

Silence on the other line. He closed his eyes, hating himself as he ground out, "My  _mate_ , I mean."

There was another quiet pause, then the female voice spoke, "Identifying… Specimen SAY-01 checked into Lab 27.D at 1310."

"How do I get there?" He blurted, both of his hands curving desperately around the edges of the terminal. "Can I- Can I go there?"

Pause. "Specimen SAY-02 is assigned to Loading Bay 4.B - officer escort required. Call your escort now?"

"No," he answered sharply, then closed his eyes, and thought better. "...Yes. Yeah, I'd like my escort."

"Escort paged. Designated officer: Tilmulikhan, Rhumar. Destination: FLOOR 5, ROUTE B, LOADING BAY 4. Arrival: 1336."

Goten drummed his fingers and swallowed hard. "What time is it now?"

Pause. "1332."

He stepped back from the terminal and sighed, ran a hand through his spiky bangs. He didn't know if he was making the right choice by leaving, but he knew he couldn't just wait around for her to come back. Already the worry was making him sick to his stomach, and a guilty conscience was only doubling down. While earlier Goten may have wanted as much space between them as the galaxy would allow, now that Bulla was missing, he felt lost without her presence.

Try. He had to at least try to find her.

/*/

She had almost zero idea of where she was going, much less whether she should've left in the first place, unable to shake her tummy's nervous rumbling with every step further she took. But Goten's avoidance after his ( _his!_ ) kiss had left her feeling rejected and confused and honestly a little pissed off. Bulla had stomped over to the terminal when it was clear he'd decided to stay hiding, figured out how to access the inbox for her assignment designation, and had notified personele of her departure.

As soon as she made it a floor away, the regret threatened to settle in.

But she couldn't sit and wait for him to come out, and she prayed to herself that the distraction of work would occupy her enough to forget the encounter for a while. And perhaps there may be an opportunity of escape to explore, she thought hopefully.

Trouble was, her mouth still tingled and her heart was still skipping beats. Bulla had fantasized about that very moment for years, in a hundred different iterations, but all under the same general theme - and none of them were at all like the kiss they just shared, the real thing being somehow more and less at the same time. He had felt so nice in the second she had to realize what was going on - and then…

Bulla shook her head. She was pretty sure she could recall the map their homing room terminal had displayed perfectly, but this space station was no small craft, and there were dozens of individuals coming and going by her.

Along this hall were four sets of double-doors, and as she walked by the third, her bands beeped loudly at her. She stopped and pulled her wrists up to view, glancing between them and the door she had passed. Walking backwards, she found that the third entrance brought the light on her binds blinking green, which she assumed was a good sign and pushed the right double-door open.

Overhead, a monotone female announced, "Specimen SAY-01."

Bulla found herself in yet another blindingly white room. This area was obviously a laboratory, mechanically directed in use. There were several desks and workshop spaces with a variety of large and small scientific equipment being tinkered with, and those workers stationed here were almost all specimens, if given their bindings on their wrists.

A brown furred creature with mouse-like features approached from the desk, halting Bulla by the entrance. In its hand, it wielded a tablet similar to that of AO's and Vatet's.

"Binds, please," it squeaked, and Bulla lifted her left wrist for the creature to scan her. The tablet chirped, and the mouse nodded, depositing it back on its desk. "Well, then. SAY-01, welcome to Laboratory 27.D - but your first assignment isn't scheduled until tomorrow. What brings you down today?"

She trained herself not to look as nervous as she felt, hyper-aware now of how lost she was. "I... was bored," she offered lamely. "I thought I'd maybe get a jump-start?"

The mouse sniffed and its whiskers bobbed suspiciously at her. Eventually, its lab coat shrouded shoulders lifted and it sighed. "Sure, sure. I'm Doctor Zuich, assistant tech of the bioengineering department."

"Is this what this is?" Bulla queried, lifting her finger to swirl around in the air. "Is this a bioengineering lab?"

Zuich nodded. "Correct - well, we're one of them, anyway. This particular lab works on repairing equipment."

"I don't have any bioengineering or really much repair experience," Bulla admitted with a blush. "Why would they assign me here?"

"Ahh, let me see," the doctor hummed and reached for its tablet, scrolling through the screen's contents. Its whiskers twitched, its beady eyes flicked up to her then back down, and its whiskers twitched again. "I'd assume it's because your baselines and genetics rank you at Nine, and they don't want you to get into any trouble. We're pretty even-keeled in here."

"Nine?"

"Do you want a tour of this lab or not? I have other things I could be doing than answering inventory questions," Zuich huffed impatiently. When Bulla muted herself and nodded, it beckoned her onward. They toured the lab together, with Zuich showing Bulla her designated workspace, some of the basic equipment and explaining they'd start her off as an errand worker initially. None of the workers really glanced up from their equipment or stations, and Bulla was struck with the distinct impression that was intentional.

They circled back to the entrance after the languorous tour, and Zuich gathered up a tiny, green disc from its desk and passed it to Bulla.

"This is your merit chip for today. You can scan it under your homing room terminal to get rid of that demerit on your account, but don't get used it it." Zuich sniffed and looked the other way, adding in aside, "You caught me in a good mood."

Bulla fingered the disc, expression confused. "Wait, why would you-"

"I value initiative."

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Bulla smiled wide and tucked the chip into the breast pocket of her suit. "Thanks!" She began to turn spiritedly from the room, but another thought crossed her mind and she turned back to Zuich. "Hey, something you said earlier…"

"Hm?"

"You said I'm ranked at 'Nine' … what exactly does that mean?"

The doctor seemed to ponder whether or not it should divulge an explanation, before it exhaled a long-suffering sigh. "Really rushed your inventory, didn't they? At the Galactic Conservation Institute, we rank specimens on a scale of Zero to Ten, based on genetic factors, baseline tests, and previous knowledge of the species."

Bulla pursed her lips, considering that. They were only ranked Nine? Weren't Saiyans the most powerful beings in the universe? That was certainly the impression she had always grown up with.

"What kinds of species are Tens?" She figured was a safer framing of the question.

"Currently, there are no Tens on board  _Nukhu Rak_ ," Zuich found its seat behind its desk and folded its hands over its middle where the single button lay fastened on its coat. "We have a couple of specimens off-site, however."

While that left a few more questions floating in the air, Bulla knew not press her luck. With a smile and bow, she twirled out of the lab, sufficiently distracted from her earlier woes. She chewed on the new information she had received as her feet retraced the route that lead her to the labs. It was hard to fathom what creatures could ever surpass the likes of her father or Son Goku.

When the elevators she appeared before parted, Bulla stepped in with several others, and suddenly she was reminded of how very alone she was, and why. It was unbearable to be cramped in with these strangers, and she kept her gaze trained on the ground, willing herself to keep breathing slowly. She needed to get back to her room; something wasn't right.

The elevator dinged when it reached her floor, and she couldn't help but rush off the lift to get separated from the congregation, eager to return to the familiar. But that unpleasant something was following her out, and as Bulla walked that's when she realized it - thumping footsteps and a set of hungry eyes eating her up from behind.

She twisted at the hip and met Veron's amused, eager stare. Fight or flight fluttered adrenaline in her veins.

"Why the hell are you following me?" She snapped, fight coming to the fore ahead of flight. "You're being really creepy, did you know that?"

"You know, I couldn't believe it when I heard it," Veron snickered as he shook his head. "But I guess looking at you now, yeah, I could see it. He was a little bitch, too."

"Excuse me?"

Veron grinned, and Bulla could make out his unusually sharp canines. "I finally got some buddies of mine to tell me who you are," he told her in a low tone, and her eyes narrowed defensively. "And I'll be damned, here I am, talking to the half-breed daughter of Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans. What are the odds?"

"Depends what you're betting on, I guess," she countered haughtily. "How do you know my father?"

At that, the man guffawed. "Oh girl, do  _you_  know your father?" He read her lack of appreciation, and Veron smirked. "That's okay; you don't have to. Just know everything I do to you, I'll be wishing it was him."

He resumed his stalking closer and Bulla gasped, glancing behind her to find the hallway woefully empty. Her feet began backwards as he encroached.

"Your father murdered the crown prince of my homeworld, one of the last of my kind left," Veron growled, and she noticed his binds beginning to blink orange in his approach. Dread filtered in her chest, and her heart began to speed up. "A stupid ape like that, killing Lord Zarbon - can you fucking imagine?"

He was only a few scant feet from her now, and Bulla was ready to spring away when a familiar ki resonated behind her. Veron stopped, his eyes drifting up over her shoulder, and his brow slanted further in anger. Bulla barely tilted her head to the side, as Goten and the alligator-faced soldier escorting him entered her peripheral, and relief crushed burgeoning fear with such strength she nearly sobbed.

"Back off," Goten warned, brusquely joining her side, his shoulder coming forward to shield her from the brute's view.

Veron studied the other man for a hard moment, before his frowning mouth tipped up in an arrogant smile once again. He glanced in the direction of Rhumar the officer, who stood still a couple of feet behind the Saiyan pair, neither offended nor impressed with the encounter unfolding before him.

"...Sure thing, kid," he obliged jovially, turning his smirk then to Bulla as he dropped his torso in a dramatic bow. "Your Highness, I'll be seeing you!" And although it was with all the breeziness of a pleasant conversation, the threat was no less implied.

Veron retreated backward until his heel hit the lift, and the elevator doors closed upon his sneering visage.

When he finally disappeared from view, Bulla let out a shuddering gasp, her anxious breathing drawing out tears she hadn't known were on the brink. Goten turned to her at once, his hands helplessly bound together at the wrists. She could see his fingers flex out toward her.

"Are you alright? Did he touch you?"

Bulla shook her head and sniffled, unable to look up at him, ashamed of her fright and relieved at the same time to be safe. "No, no, he didn't-"

"Monkeys," Rhumar grumbled from afar, and they both glared back at him. "Let's move it, if you're done here! I haven't got all day!"

"And what about you!" Goten snarled at the soldier. "You weren't going to do anything, were you?!"

The guard's long muzzle reared up in a toothy grin, wrinkling the gauze that covered the eye Bulla had injured previously. "If you think either of you are endeared to anyone here but yourselves, you've got another thing coming," he chuckled darkly. "Now, if you don't want another demerit, you'll move your asses."

/*/

There were two grizzly armored beasts visible on the horizon. They must've seen him from afar, as both figures had stilled in their progression toward the camp when he exited.

Vegeta lifted his free arm, bundled ki into his extended palm, and fired two white flares into the sky above the camp.

Little hesitation followed from the hunters as they flew into the encampment shortly after. Both were massive, the pair of them warthog-faced, cruel-looking monsters with tusks. Their battered battle armor had been modified substantially, with graffiti across the breast, added spiked pads and hip guards, and utility belts stocked with a variety of - Vegeta assumed from a cursory glance - black market weaponry.

The two aliens landed a short distance from Vegeta, both wielding long-range laser blasters aimed directly at his face.

"...You're not a Gratya," one of them gruffed.

"Clearly," Vegeta rolled his eyes. He brandished the egg, and both warriors grunted in surprise. "Looking for something?"

The one on the right stomped a hard boot forward, beefy arm extended. "Give it, shorty."

With a thoughtful noise, Vegeta turned the egg over in his hand, making a face as though examining it. "Not very convincing," he said, then glared up at the two. "Shouldn't you offer a fair trade?"

The left beast cocked his laser blaster, and Vegeta could hear it sing at the ready. "Your life for that one. Sounds fair to me."

A mirthless chuckle rumbled in Vegeta's chest as he shook his head at the pair. The right had advanced another step, and he leveled him with a nasty smirk. "The female's in there," he tipped his head toward the lean-to. "Says you've been looking for her and the male for a while. They must be pretty important."

"They're  _our_  bounty, sniffer," the left one growled. "Now fork it over."

"No," Vegeta defied, bored. "This isn't going to go the way you think it will. You're going to tell me where your vessel is cloaked, or I'll leave you for dead." Off their shocked looks, Vegeta shrugged, his smirk widening. "Sounds fair to me."

With a howl of rage, the advancing right pistoned forward with a wide left hook, but Vegeta dodged it with ease. The beast repeatedly swung furious blows, and each one Vegeta ducked and parried, until he found a quick opening and socked the hunter square in the gut. The hunter's torso dented around Vegeta's fist, the outline of which was nearly visible by his spine, and he gasped with horrified eyes staring into Vegeta's vicious own.

The Saiyan drew his fist out slowly, reveling in the sickening pull back with a wicked grin. Overhead, the second monster lunged and Vegeta vanished in an instant, evading several fired laser shots. Vegeta fazed in and out between the blasts as the hunter's trigger-finger went wild, steadily advancing on the beast until he was just in front of him with his gloved hand wrapped around the muzzle of the weapon. With a snicker, he whipped the blaster back into the warthog's snout, following up with a sharp kick to his temple, sending the heavy body careening to the ground where it formed a massive crater next to the first.

Vegeta descended as he adjusted the egg he had been cradling under one arm. His boots hit the ground with a soft bounce just as Gohan came rushing out of the camp, the wounded insect female held in his arms. The female gasped in pure shock as she took in the two writhing bodies drilled into the earth, her bulging eyes welling with tears when Vegeta approached and tossed Gohan the egg.

Wordlessly, he turned from them and marched over to the shallow pit of the first hunter, kneeling down to drag the monster up by the collar of his breastplate. Ignoring the pathetic beast's groaning, Vegeta shook him into consciousness.

"Hey," he growled, adding another shake for good measure. "About your ship. Where is it?"

The monster squinted at him, panting, blood dripping down his chin. "Go fuck-"

Vegeta's fist smashed into the warthog's snout, spouting blood further out of his face.

"Again. Where is your ship?"

"..."

Another slam of his gloved fist, over and over, until the pink skin of the creature had turned swollen, split, and mottled purple and his white glove had been dyed crimson. Vegeta vaguely heard Gohan holler his name, but he was a man with a one-track mind. He shifted his grip on the armor again to jostle him awake once more.

"The next one will be your last," Vegeta hissed up close, nose-to-nose with the brute. "I could be merciful and leave you with an aid kit and distress signal… Or I could kill you now. What's it going to be?"

The bloated eye of the hunter traced the seriousness of Vegeta's deadly expression. Fighting an inner war, finally the monster looked away, gurgling out, "...North, north, east, lat 169.9, long 126.3…"

"Disarming code?"

Gritting his teeth, the hunter clenched his eyes closed. "14-T-69-U."

Pleased, Vegeta's lips unfurled in a broad smirk. He lifted his free hand again as though to land another punch, the beast flinching away with a whimper, but instead he landed gentle, open-palm pats to its wrecked cheek.

"Good boy," he commended, before he pitched the hunter back into his grave. As he stood, Vegeta pointed at the monster with his index and middle fingers, firing a ki blast through its chest. He turned to the other beast and followed with the same. Both corpses lay still, eyes rolled back, chests smoldering.

"You didn't have to do that!" Gohan admonished Vegeta's back. When the older Saiyan turned to fix him with a glare, Gohan struggled to meet his severe gaze, knowing his scolding was in vain. "We could've just left them, Vegeta."

"If you think I'm leaving any strings dangling behind me, you're mistaken," Vegeta defended smoothly in return, unapologetic to his core. He nodded at the two graves, then canted his chin toward the shanty. "You can bury the dead, boy, since you're so focused on 'respect'. I'm going to the hunter ship." He glanced to the insect, who was carefully cradling her egg. "You said there was just the two, correct?"

She nodded, eyes never leaving her prize. "Just the two."

Vegeta met Gohan's disapproving eyes and his cheek twitched in aggravation. Unwilling to contest anything further with the boy, he shot off into the sky, determined to find the hidden ship before the imminent sundown.

/*/

"What do you know about my dad?"

Goten looked up from his place across from her on the kitchen floor. They'd been sitting there for quite some time, both hoping to find a stone left unturned or a package left half-empty, but regrettably all they found now were the empty boxes that reminded them of their gorging. He had finished telling her about his assignment - packaging shipments - when she posed the abrupt question.

He shrugged, picking at the label of a box in his hands. "That he's an asshole?"

The garbage she threw half-heartedly at him, he easily batted aside.

"C'mon. That guy said ... he said my dad murdered his prince," Bulla told him, and she sounded weak. Goten had been trying valiantly not to make too much eye-contact. His cheeks were still burning from the memory of their earlier encounter and the sight of her wet eyes were weighing him down. "I knew he wasn't always a hero but…"

"Hey, your dad's a good guy," Goten told her, and where her voice was weak, his was firm. "You know that."

"Has he killed people?"

He sighed. Was it his place? There were certainly thing about Vegeta that Goten knew better than her, but he was sure it wasn't his place to share that information. So he shook his head, instead.

"I don't know, Bulla," he half-lied. "I can't tell you about his past. You're gonna have to ask him."

"But what if I don't get a chance to?" At that, he glanced up. She wasn't looking at him anymore, her eyes instead fixated on some distant spot to her left. Her face was dewy from the few tears she had let slip, her arms folded on her drawn knees, and her chin perched there. It was a heart-rending sight; a girl broken. "What if I never get to see him again?"

"B, c'mon," Goten admonished her lamenting. As he watched her face crumple with fresh tears, he couldn't bear it any longer, and his body moved of its own accord to find a comfortable place beside her. While his brain told him to get out, his heart wouldn't allow him to leave her here like this.

"You know he's coming for us. Your dad would never leave you out here."

"It's been four days," Bulla hiccuped, and the number struck Goten soundly. "We've been gone for four days, Goten. Almost five." She gazed down at her tucked knees and bit her lip. "I mean, how long does it take to be rescued? I haven't exactly done this before…"

Her joke was barely discernible, but earned a chuckle from him nevertheless. Goten cupped her shoulder tenderly on reflex, and they met one another's gazes upon contact. His fingers danced back up off of her, but a question had already set in her mind. He could see it, and he regretted it.

"Why did you kiss me?" Her voice was a whisper, and if he wasn't as close as he was - which suddenly felt too,  _too_ close - he might not have been able to hear her.

"I don't know," his honest answer came quicker than he'd rehearsed. When her face fell, he amended shamefully, "I don't mean to sound like some idiot, Bulla. Since we've been here, I can't…" Goten sighed and glanced away from her. His jaw tensed, and he closed his eyes. "I guess I've... thought about it. And I'm sorry-"

"Don't," she cut him off quietly, startling his eyes back upon her. She appeared wounded but earnest, and the coupling made his heart stutter in his chest. "Don't say that."

Her request, the way she was staring so intently up at him now, suffocated him.

"What are you talking about?" He mustered out on a shaky exhale.

Bulla had shifted closer, her knees dropped, brushing his. The air felt tight around his head as she leaned into him, and he could make out blotchy pink decorating her cheeks, errant blue strands brushing over her eyebrows, and the shadows hidden in her bright blue eyes. He felt the fingers of her left hand ghost over his middle as she lifted herself up to reach his height, and his stomach tightened.

"Don't say you're sorry," her words entreated softly, before he met her, unthinkingly, halfway.

Initial surprise was washed away immediately in the humming bliss that enfolded his mind and body when their lips met again. She felt as soft and smelled as good as earlier, and Goten wanted to chase the taste of her that he couldn't name before. Her mouth opened to him invitingly and the sweet slip of her tongue against his drew from him a deep moan, electrifying every one of his nerves. His hands moved on their own to collect her by the waist, pulling her closer against him, practically into his lap, and the plushness of her body brought a warmth he didn't know he craved.

But when her hands laced into the hair at the nape of his neck, when her throat reverberated with a needy mewl, Goten felt that stiffly in his core and lower. He snapped his mouth apart from hers with a hiss between his teeth, pressing his forehead against her own.

"No,  _dammit_ ," he ground out, rallying the few strands of sanity he had left. He pushed her to arm's length, even as the rest of his body cried for her to crowd him closer. "We, we, we can't do that, no."

"What? Why?" She whined, folded back on to her haunches, kept at bay by his hands on her shoulders. His groin throbbed at her pouting lower lip.

He shook his head, eyes kept closed tight, as suddenly everything about her became unnecessarily provocative. "This is crazy, we can't-"

"But I want to," Bulla spoke over him, and his eyes shot up to her face. "I've… I've wanted to."

Dammit, she looked pretty, mouth still red and her cheeks, her neck still flushed.

But…  _What was she saying_?

"Bulla,  _no_." Goten stood up from the floor, desperate for some distance between them again, but she was rising alongside him. "You don't know what you're saying. I don't even know what we're doing-"

"Goten-!" He cut her off with a swipe of his arm through the air, his feet carrying him swiftly back to the bathroom once again.

A few moments later, he could hear her approach down the hall. Goten felt her outside the bathroom, hesitating, before her footfalls sounded further away and he heard the bedroom door close.

He expelled a breath he hadn't been aware of holding and leaned forward on his knuckles against the sink, trying to calm his body down before he burst or did something incredibly stupid.

/*/

The bounty hunter ship wasn't terribly difficult to find, thankfully. Vegeta came upon the poorly cloaked vehicle in under twenty minutes. It was a rust bucket; he was amazed it had even made a safe landing. But, he considered as he disarmed the vessel, it was better than the debris littering the face of the encampment.

Once aboard, he was a man with a mission. Find any and all information possible. He rushed toward the cockpit, rifling through the messy containers with abandon. At last, he found something - a paper, the pertinent information of the two creatures that had escaped ( _Frenya and Hedya, male and female Gratya, one offspring - egg, escape pod tracking number, etc._ ), and coordinates for the GCI's present location.

There were also instructions on capture and - Vegeta's face threatened to crack a smile - a bounty hunter entrance code for return to the GCI. He shoved the folded paper into his boot, before he continued his hurried ransacking of the ship and returned to the camp.

Gohan had finished burying the two hunters and Frenya, their grave mounds evident, even as the wind blew the dusty earth around.

"We'll be leaving shortly," Vegeta told Gohan as he landed beside him. "

"Did you find anything?"

The older Saiyan merely nodded, before he carried on into the lean-to. He found Hedya, the female, perched in the corner with the blankets and her egg, which she had not yet relinquished. He could see that Gohan had also taken care of her shoulder injury, bandages wrapped securely around her clavicle and arm.

At his approach, she shook, unable to meet his gaze completely.

"Their ship is yours," he told her, much to her surprise. "It's loaded with enough fuel and sustenance to get you to the next nearest galactic port. We'll take you there before we leave, but then you're on your own."

As he made to turn on his heel, the female asked tremulously, "...You're the Saiyan Prince, Vegeta, aren't you?"

He went still, only granting her the side of his face. Barely, he inclined his head.

"I don't really remember the Saiyans, when they came," she whispered. "But I do remember when they burned up everything. My mother and brothers died, and they laughed while everything was on fire... I only was able to escape with my father."

Vegeta said nothing, listening intently, eyes lowered to the ground at his feet.

"If you're missing someone to the Institute… I hope you are prepared," Hedya warned. "The Institute is quickly following down the Cold Empire's path."

"It's my daughter," Vegeta told her, wondering why.

Hedya's blue antenna sagged, but nothing more came from her. The two of them remained in silence for several long silent seconds more, before Vegeta twisted and exited the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we goooo! Vegeta and Gohan have their way paved to the GCI and Bulla and Goten are gonna be battling pesky will they/won't they for a little whileeee... but only a little, promise! ;) I'm so grateful for all the great feedback from everyone, it is so much fun to write this fic and talk to you guys about it, the characters, and the relationships! So thank you all for that!


	9. chapter 9 (marvel)

Something gentle was whispering at him. A soft brushing across his shoulder. A calling of his name. Goten wrinkled his brow, trying to discern the source, until he caved with a groan and allowed his eyes to flutter open. Her face came swimming blearily before him, and as soon as she registered him looking, Bulla turned the other way, her long ponytail swinging along her back with the brusque movement.

Goten's throat felt dry as everything came rushing back, as had been the trend every day he woke up here. Only this time, he was struck with the very real memories that involved kissing his companion.

He wanted to dissolve into the couch cushions and disappear from total view, even existence, as she gave him her cool profile; his insides were all twisted with shame.

When he couldn't find the courage to speak up, Bulla took initiative. "You've got about five minutes to get ready with enough time to go eat before ….  _Work_ , or whatever." The word battled its way off her tongue in disgust, and he was sure he'd laugh at her expression of distaste if it were any other day or place in time.

"Why, uh…" His scratchy voice caught in his throat when she glanced at him with a flick of dark lashes. Goten looked away, blushing under the attention. "Why did you wait for me?"

Her tiny shoulder rolled, and this time she moved to completely give him her back as she began down the hallway to the back terminal.

"I guess I didn't want to be alone," her joyless answer echoed in the hall. His heart was gripped by the same emotion, and a painful many more. "I'll be back here when you're ready to leave."

Five minutes was more than enough time. Goten took only a brief couple to make use of the bathroom, brush his teeth, and rake water through his unruly bangs. He jogged up to the back chute and the terminal that Bulla was presently fiddling with. When she heard the sound of his boots, she turned at the waist and presented him a tiny green disc as he approached.

"What's this?" He wondered, taking it from her to inspect it.

"It's a merit chip," Bulla said. "My … supervisor gave it to me yesterday. If you scan it under the terminal, it's supposed to take one of those demerits off your account," she explained with a nod at the terminal.

Goten glanced between her face and the chip, growing more confused by the second when he offered it back and she rejected it. "Wait, what? You're giving it to me?" When she nodded silently, he shook his head. "No, Bulla, this is yours. I can't…"

"Listen, it'll be a lot easier for us to form an escape plan when you don't have a guard escort every time you leave here," Bulla sighed, not meeting his gaze again, eyes level with his chest. Her arms folded tightly over her breasts. "Just scan it and let's go. I'm hungry."

It made sense, as much as he didn't want to take it from her. Begrudgingly, he looked over the terminal and saw she had already started into it on his behalf. He peeked at her, finding her watching the screen resolutely, and he dared to scan the chip beneath it. A blue light flashed over his fingers and the disc, before the terminal dinged brightly at them both.

A familiar female electronic voice spoke then, "Merit chip accepted for SAY-02. Processing... Reviewed demerit count: 1. Consequential requirement: Notification of all departure to personele."

Relief washed over Goten as he realized it had worked. He caught a glimpse of Bulla's pleased smile, though when she found him watching, she fixed her features into something unmoved again.

He wished that didn't bother him the way that it did.

Before he could consider it, Goten felt words bubbling up his throat. "Bulla, hey," he started quietly, and he wanted to shake her averted eyes to his, but his hands stayed by his side, sweaty and unsure of what to do. "I wanted to say that I'm … I'm sorry for what-"

She jutted her hip out abruptly and took a wide side-step, bumping him aside from in front of the terminal with an aggravated huff.

"I told you don't say that," she grumbled, typing a little too aggressively into the screen.

"But Bulla-"

"SAY-01, SAY-02 requesting departure to FLOOR 2, Dining Hall. Notifying personnel… Request granted. Destination: FLOOR 2, Dining Hall. Arrival Time: 0443." The female voice spoke over him, and Bulla willfully ignored him as the lift propelled into the chute.

The front opened for them with a hiss, and both entered without another word, the pair trying valiantly on both sides to keep their shoulders from brushing in the small space provided.

/*/

It had taken longer than Vegeta would have liked to get the Gratya boarded and on her way. He was happy to be rid of her and return to their ship, the whole encounter having left a sour taste in his mouth and unhappy memories plaguing his thoughts.

The sounds of their ship's jets thrusting them out of atmo and into space was soothing to his mounting temper, and he exhaled slowly and sank back against his chair as dust and clouds and debris morphed into empty black all around them outside the cockpit window.

"I've gotta to hand it to you, Vegeta," Gohan began with a wry chuckle, and Vegeta closed his eyes to try and tune the boy out. "I'm impressed. You were on it back there, and a lot nicer to her than I'd have given you credit for-"

"The Gratyas were one of my first purges under Frieza," Vegeta muttered low, his eyes opening to the blackness of space again, while vivid memories flickered in his mind. His fists clenched and unclenched upon the armrests of his seat.

He waited for the other male to comment, but when none came, he pushed up from the chair, the weight of Gohan's staring heavy on his shoulders. Vegeta started for the hall, pausing to tell Gohan over his shoulder, "I owed their kind one. Put in those coordinates, mind the monitors, and don't bother me."

The commands went unquestioned, and Vegeta headed back to his bunk without a second look at Gohan.

Blessed silence greeted him as his bunk door hissed closed behind him. The quarters of the ship were cramped by human standards, but compared to previous vessels he had travelled on they were almost palatial. Vegeta kicked his boots aside and threw his gloves into the corner, hasty to collapse on to the firm cot set against the wall.

He sat hunched over the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and head in his hands, fingers clenching and unfurling. His mind felt like it was going to implode with the cacophony of information bubbling, overflowing, now that he had been forced to settle and consider. Vegeta sat upright and turned, palm smacking on the flat console tucked upon the wall facing the head of the cot. The small screen illuminated, and a ringing noise echoed around him, clutching his chest with anxiety in each round.

It ceased, and Bulma's excited face pixelated into view. The tension in his bones lessened at once.

Her brow creased in concern in the half-second she saw him. "Vegeta. What happened?" Her tone was soft, but no less worried.

"There was a wrecked ship," he told her. "An alien had escaped from the Institute."

A brightness lit in her eyes that he hated to quash. "There was? Was it-"

"It wasn't them." Vegeta had to look away, unable to watch her deflation. "A Gratya, a female and her egg. They were…" His eyebrow twitched and his eyes narrowed on his gloves thrown to the corner. "Their planet was purged under Frieza."

He heard her quiet 'oh' of understanding, and the smallest part of him felt fleeting self-consciousness over it.

"Well … I'm sure they welcomed the help," Bulma's carefully chosen words eventually came, coaxing his gaze back to her. "Did you find out anything?"

The topic shift was covert, and he loved his wife for that. Vegeta nodded. "They'd been tracked by bounty hunters. We handled it and took what we needed from their ship to make it the rest of the way, then sent the Gratya off with supplies."

Bulla hummed in appreciation. "Great, so you're back on your way, then?" When he nodded again, she sighed in relief. "Perfect! I want you all home as soon as possible. I miss you."

Vegeta didn't need to respond with words, he knew, granting his wife a significant glance in kind. However, a more pressing concern forced its way out of his mouth. "I'm sure there are other races we eliminated for the Cold Empire at the Institute, Bulma."

"They won't know she's your daughter," Bulma tried to assuage his unspoken concern. "She hardly even looks like you, Vegeta."

"Those two are walking targets," Vegeta tersely told her. "Others will find out they're Saiyan."

Bulla tutted at him, but he noted the nervous twiddling of the pen between her fingers. "Stop that right now," she scolded him, brandishing the pen at him in warning. "Besides, Bulla is smart enough to lay low."

"She doesn't know."

Her blue eyes locked with uncertainty upon his own. "Vegeta…"

Vegeta turned away from her. He seldom felt shame over his actions in the past; it was different life ( _not a life at all_ ) and he did what he had to to survive. But when he imagined his daughter's innocent face, the ability to divulge his past confidently evaded him completely. A part of him commanded that he couldn't sully her with that information.

"Goten will watch out for her," Bulma spoke after an anxious pause. "He's smart enough-"

"Tch," Vegeta scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "Don't you dare use that boy's name and the word 'smart' in the same sentence. The apple didn't fall far from the tree with that one."

"Vegeta!"

"Even if he is there with her," Vegeta rumbled, his hard eyes focused on the console under Bulma's face. "They both need to be on their guard. The Saiyans are far from revered."

He watched Bulma's eyes flick up to look at something, then back to his grimacing face. "You only have a couple of days left, right?" He nodded, and her lips thinned in determination. "Then let's just say they're fine and get there, alright?"

His wife's naivety was infuriating, but he didn't have it in him to berate her for him. Vegeta growled and glanced aside, not granting her anything further. She sighed at him; somehow a comforting and annoying sound all at once.

"Get some rest," she told him, a lot gentler than he was expecting. Vegeta peered up at her as she looked away, features drawn in restrained defeat. "I love you."

Vegeta grunted in response, and the feed died, and he hung his head with a long exhale.

/*/

Their journey to breakfast at the cafeteria was tense and quiet. Goten felt the irritation radiating off of the girl beside him in waves, and he was certain she could feel his uncomfortableness as well. This was probably the furthest from each other they had been when in the open public, neither bothering to hold the other's hand or even so much as brush an arm. Bula was making a clear point to keep her safe distance, and somehow that just doubled Goten's confusion about their situation even more.

He wanted to reach for her fingers and drag her next to him, while at the same time sit several seats away when they settled at a lonely table together.

That feeling, that desire of nearness expanded when Goten sensed someone in the room watching them. He knew before looking what he'd find - that Veron guy, glaring at Bulla's back from across the room. That protective surging thrummed in his veins, and Goten glowered hard in return over the top of Bulla's blue crown.

"Stop it," Bulla commanded, and Goten's gaze startled down upon her. She seemed bored as she popped a questionable fruit into her mouth, and how she caught him looking, he couldn't tell. "Just eat, or we'll be late."

Heeding her instruction, Goten leveled one more quick glare up at the other male before he commenced devouring most of his alien breakfast.

Goten was reminded of high school as he escorted Bulla to her lab, ignoring her single dismissal of him. When he declined, she didn't bother, and he thought perhaps she was relieved that he didn't take her up on it. When they arrived at the double-doors, Bulla hesitated with her hand on the handle. She appeared to be considering something, her lips moving around a word unspoken.

"Bulla?" Goten prompted, curious.

"Just… will you come down here when you're done?" Her voice attempted to be firm, but there was no missing the nervous falter around her request. He watched as her cheeks bloomed pink when she noted his attention, but when he nodded his assent, the color muted.

"Of course."

Bulla merely bowed her head, muttered a quiet 'thank you', before she ducked into the lab, leaving Goten alone in the hall. He waited until the door finished its swinging and stilled, wondering over her stand-offishness and just a little bit wounded over the lack of a proper goodbye. The stubborn part of him considered whether to poke his head in after her, but he thought better of it, considering an avoidant Bulla might be more tolerable than an infuriated one.

He was a little lost on his way the loading bay where he was to work, having only been lead before by guards or by Bulla, and Goten barely made it through the door on time. His orders were clear and easy enough: loading boxes and crates onto pallets that would be delivered to other departments. The bay was staffed with other stronger aliens, most with bulky bodies and muscles. He was aware of several dirty looks cast his way as he took up his post, working alongside a massive purple monster.

The work was mindless, which was perfect, because his mind was anywhere but in the present. Goten was on autopilot as his brain replayed the intimate moments between he and his female companion. How electrifying her kisses had been. How scared he was over the fact that, if he let himself be honest, how badly he wanted to kiss her again. How wrong the whole thing felt, because wasn't she just as good as a sister to him? But then Goten considered no, he had never really imagined her as a sister… so then what was she? What exactly was Bulla to him?

Had it ever been something he had thought about, beyond she was just his best friend's kid sister? Or was she his friend before this, too? Yes, she had been his friend, Goten thought, grunting as he tossed an armload of boxes on top of his seventh finished pallet. So where was this desire coming from?

She was pretty - beautiful, even. Goten couldn't lie to himself about that fact. And now that Bulla had been drawn into that frame of focus, it was impossible to unsee it. He was physically attracted to her, he had to admit, but was it only that? The heavy beating of his heart told him no.

Her kind smile, her laugh, her positive attitude, her moxie - yeah, he was attracted to those things too. So what did that mean? What was he supposed to do with this attraction when he was literally trapped here with her? He couldn't run from it forever, could he?

And then Goten's mind pivoted - what was the harm?

The thought made his stomach flip over and sent an icy chill racing down his spine. But he couldn't turn away from it. What was the harm in this attraction? He recalled her fierce kisses in return and her assured " _I've wanted to_ " and he swallowed thickly. If that hadn't been any indication of her reciprocation… and he liked to hope her cold rebuffing of him today was only in response to his running away. Why  _did_  he run away?"

His memory didn't fail him, reminding him of his best friend; and also of that time he saw her born; and then another time where he and Trunks babysat Bulla and his niece together; and then he remembered her father and real, true fear rippled through him. Goten hunched his shoulders against it, nearly fumbling the stack of crates in his grip, as he imagined Vegeta's reaction to even the very consideration of pursuing his daughter.

"Hey! Fucking load it and move, monkey!" The supervisor barked, stirring Goten out of his horrifying daydreams.

The harm? The harm would certainly befall him.

/*/

Bulla had only been working for perhaps an hour or two before the blue, fish-looking guard that had first introduced them to the Institute -  _Pajeth_ , Bulla recalled after a frantic mental search - entered. He spoke low to her mousey supervisor, and Bulla tried to keep her gaze diverted and pretended to be focused on the small motor she had been examining. Out of her peripheral, she watched Zuich nod, and Pajeth began to make his way toward her station.

"Female," the blue guard hissed. "Rise."

Bulla glanced uncertainly between the soldier and Zuich, who had resumed inattentive sitting at its desk. Slowly, she rose from her seat, her equipment placed delicately upon her station table. She followed the guard, trying to fight down the rising panic tickling up her neck as he led her out of the lab. They did not leave the floor, nor did they venture very far. When they turned into the designated wing, Bulla's heart fell as she realized their destination. Pajeth scanned his arm brace at a pad by the door, ushering Bulla into Vatet's now very-familiar office.

The beautiful woman was waiting at her desk, a bored smile stretched over her red lips. "Bulla, welcome," she greeted pleasantly enough, though Bulla couldn't bring herself to return such pleasantries in kind. The scientist's very presence rankled her, and Pajeth all but had to shove the Saiyan female further into the office.

Under threat of the weapon trained by her hip, Bulla sank into a chair across from Vatet's desk, her fiery blue gaze unwavering upon the other woman. Vatet picked up her attitude with an arched brow. "Is something bothering you today?"

"I was working," Bulla's excuse rolled out. "Now I'm here. Aren't you interfering with how I'm supposed to 'earn my keep'?"

Vatet laughed, waving her long-fingered hand at Bulla. "I see. AO isn't very eloquent, my apologies on behalf of the Institute," she siad. "She's not exactly a … people-person."

"Why am I here?"

"Well, we wanted to check some of your levels since you've been here. Just a quick energy reading and blood test," Vatet nodded and stood, circling her desk to perch on the edge. When Bulla tensed, her eyes darting to the exit, the red-skinned woman shushed her. "Oh, don't worry, this isn't anything like the exam. I've got a monitor for your finger, and then a simple prick for the blood sample. But why don't we catch up, first?"

Bulla looked aside, her arms folding tightly over her chest. "No, thanks."

"Still so avoidant. Are you not adjusting well?"

"I want to leave."

Vatet hummed. "I understand. Let's try something else: tell me, why did you give Goten your merit chip?"

At that, Bulla whipped her head around, her mouth open in surprise.

Unbothered, the scientist merely continued, "He scanned the chip Zuich had designated to you. There's nothing wrong with that, don't worry," she assured as Bulla's eyes began to widen in fear, "But it's just curious.  _You_  could've used that."

"He's… my friend," Bulla came up with lamely, her heart not behind the word. When Vatet squinted at her, Bulla's cheeks illuminated with red, and she tried to recover, "He got those demerits because of me, for trying to protect me. It was only fair."

"Aw," Vatet crooned with little authenticity. "I'm sure he appreciated the gesture."

Bulla nodded, averting her eyes to the floor.

"Did he tell you about your upcoming session?" Vatet wondered, and Bulla bowed her head even lower, crimson painted across her features. "Only about six more days, I think? Are you excited?"

There was a lack of any kind of response from the younger girl, and Vatet sighed heavily, leaning forward to peer closer at Bulla. Her attention snapped back to the scientist, her shoulders pulling inward defensively as she tried to tuck herself further away from the red woman. Bulla's withdrawal wrote a grin across Vatet's lips.

"It doesn't matter if you are or not. I suppose I was just hoping to find you more … positive," she shrugged, clearly disinterested in whether or not Bulla truly felt that way or otherwise. "Let's begin, shall we?"

WIth that, Vatet pulled herself off the edge of her desk and began gathering supplies about the office. She retrieved a similar needle from inventory to take a blood sample, as well as a hand-held device with a finger glove wired to the head of it. Wordlessly, the scientist held out her hand for Bulla, who begrudgingly gave her her palm.

Blessedly no further banter was attempted, as the alien woman busied herself with taking her samples and readings. Bulla closed her eyes and tried to place herself somewhere else as the other woman fiddled with her arm, her fingers, but the only place her brain wanted to imagine her was by Goten's side.

Her eyes fluttered open - she couldn't bother putting herself there, either.

"There we go!" Vatet's chipper voice broke the silence, and she removed the finger glove from Bulla's outstretched index. "Everything looks well."

As she set about putting the instruments away, Vatet waved at Pajeth, who had been holding station by the head of Bulla's chair. He tapped at Bulla's shoulder with his weapon, and she understood the unspoken instruction and stood, her downcast gaze unmoved from the floor between her feet. Pajeth guided her toward the doors again, but Vatet called after them, her arm raised to flag them to a halt.

"I'm so sorry, I forgot to mention," she exhaled on a laugh. "How silly of me. Bulla, I'm afraid we need to retest your power baseline again."

A phantom pain snaked up the side that had been slashed in her most recent battle. Bulla's hand flew over the spot as she gaped incredulously at the woman. "What, why?"

Vatet sucked her lower lip and shrugged. "Unfortunately, Sebius was concerned that you were concealing your true potential." Bulla began to open her mouth to protest, but Vatet lowered her eyes skeptically upon her, speaking over her, "Your power against the Saibamen wasn't even a quarter of your father's at the time of his enlistment under Lord Frieza. I hope you don't expect us to entertain the notion that you're skills are not above that."

That explanation effectively silenced Bulla's argument. She hadn't considered that they could be aware of her father's skill or any kind of comparison that could've been drawn. However, it inspired her, because if all they had to go off of was what he was capable before Earth, it was likely that meant they did not know about their Super Saiyan abilities. Her mouth folded down demurely, restraining her expression into something neutral, as Vatet carried on.

"We will retest you in three days," the scientist resumed her place behind her desk, fingers lacing pragmatically in front of her. "Along with Goten."

That addition startled Bulla, her mouth falling open in surprise. "Goten?"

Pleased with her surprise unveiled, Vatet tilted her head, her long white hair swinging gently. "Well, what better way to test both of your powers efficiently than against each other? You are both familiar with one another's prowess, I'm assuming, so I think it should be a fair fight. No concerns about early elimination of our Saibamen, and you both can show us the true power you possess."

Bulla fell silent and her mind worked a mile a minute around the new details. Vatet flicked her wrist, dismissing them with the gesture, and Pajeth urged Bulla back out of the office to return to her assigned lab.

/*/

When Goten had entered, he found Bulla's bolt of vibrant blue still stationed at her workspace, as his entrance was heralded by the intercom above. Bulla glanced up from the small, metal rectangle she was tinkering with, catching his eye, and returning not even an iota of the smile he had granted her. It wounded when she looked away from him, and he hesitated a few desks from her as she took her time putting away her equipment and preparing to leave. Several other workers brushed around him as he waited, and finally she drew up to his side with a bob of her head, ponytail bouncing behind her.

The walk to the cafeteria for final meal was as quiet and tense as their walk in the morning - perhaps even moreso. Goten couldn't help himself from glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering how she could appear so aloof and unaffected while still radiating so much tension at him. They walked the food line together, before settling into a vacant table at the far end of the room. He tried not to appear too obvious as he watched her pick at her food, and as much as his stomach complained, he couldn't find the appetite for any of it either, mind and body still mostly consumed in deliberation over her.

It didn't take long for them to mutually agree they were done, both rising and emptying trays into trash bins at the exit. The walk to the homing room seemed longer, darker, and when they turned the corner into their hall, the deafening silence crushing between them was finally too crushing to stand.

Goten grabbed her by the elbow, which she was quick to jerk away, hostile and defensive at him catching her off guard. He threw his hands up. "Whoa! C'mon, what's wrong with you?"

"Don't act stupid, grabbing me like that," Bulla grumbled at him, already turning away, but he reached for her again. Saiyan reflexes did not err, and Bulla whipped around with an open palm slap at the ready. His instincts didn't falter either, as Goten's forearm shot up to block her slap mere inches from his cheek. She yanked her hand down to clench at her side, her face pink in self-righteous fury. "Ooh! I can't wait to kick your ass!"

"What?" Goten scoffed. "What are you-"

"Vatet pulled me in today," Bulla explained heatedly, her eyes glinting off his surprise. "She told me they want to test my power again because they think I'm  _hiding_  something; they want to test me against  _you_."

He couldn't help it, he really couldn't. Goten's lip folded tightly against his teeth as his shoulders shook intermittently with stifled sniggers, and he warred with himself to keep his face respectful. But if her steadily further annoyed expression said anything, it was that he was not successful.

"You think you can kick  _my_  ass?"

"I know I can," she seethed, looking almost scarily reminiscent of her father and brother, challenge accepted before he had even posed it.

Goten's belly rumbled with a laugh, but it died slowly in his throat as he realized the hole he'd dug for himself with her. He watched as she twisted her face away, cheeks puffed and nose wrinkled in annoyance - and it was all because of him and his stupid libido.

"C'mon, Bulla," Goten sighed, shaking his head at her, at himself, at all of it. "Is this how it's gonna be between us? Just… weird and uncomfortable?"

"That's up to you," she sniffed, still unwilling to look at him, and he felt a flare of aggravation against her.

"Bulla-"

" _No_ ," Bulla cut him off, verbally and with a fierce look that quieted him instantly. "I'm not the kind of girl you just lead around like that. You…" He could see her tense up, hesitating on a word, before her shoulders sank just barely. She looked away, unable to hold his gaze, and finished half-heartedly, "You just need to figure it out."

"Don't you think I'm trying?" He asked of her, desperation hinting at the edges of his voice. "This is hard for me, B. We're trapped in this weird place, I can't stop thinking about you - like  _that_ ," he emphasized, "and then I remember who you are to me, and I feel like I've turned into some kind of pervert creep!"

"Stop, Goten," her voice chided him softly, and he was relieved to find most of her annoyance had either dissipated or morphed into … endearment? Amusement? He wished he could put his finger on it. "You're not a creep. Stop making it so… complicated."

"It  _is_  complicated!"

"Do you want this?" Bulla asked him plainly, and he froze. He registered her hand waving between them, but his brain went dumb at the implication. "I mean, do you want…"

His head nodded before his brain thought about the repercussions of his admitting desire. Goten sucked his teeth and glanced aside, deeply disappointed in himself as he answered, "I ... yeah. I do."

"Well… Me, too," she murmured after a heavy moment, and his anxious eyes found her crystal clear ones. She seemed sure but scared, opening something up to him that clearly rendered her more vulnerable than anything else he'd been privy to. It brought his heart slamming against the walls of his chest and his stomach churning in anticipation.

His feet shuffled an infinitesimal step closer to her, and he thought he heard her breath hitch. Goten swallowed, trying to be brave enough to keep his eyes on her face. "Then what should we do?"

He watched, entranced, as her bright gaze flickered from his mouth back to his own eyes. "What do  _you_  want to do?"

"To kiss you," his mouth answered for him truthfully.

Bulla matched his step until the toes of her boots nearly touched his, and his palms began to itch and his fingers twitched with the need to touch her. She glanced at his mouth again, then up. Her thin blue brow arched into her bangs.

"Then kiss me," she told him, and he splintered down the middle at her request.

Goten bent over her slowly, giving her enough time for an out ( _silently praying she would and wouldn't at the same time_ ), as the fingers of his left hand curved gently around her shoulder. When she remained still, his right cupped her blushing cheek, and his lips descended with aching sweetness upon hers. The immediate contact was so relieving, spurring her into him at once, and Bulla's hands slipped up his chest to frame his neck as he exhaled a sigh through his nose.

They parted, both breathing firmly into the vacancy between their mouths. He watched her pink lips curl into a bashful smile, his stomach tightening at the sight, and Goten made to lean in again but she tilted her head away.

"We should probably…" Bulla trailed off on a whisper, nodding toward the direction of their homing room a few doors down.

Goten flushed as he recovered himself, having forgotten momentarily where they were standing. He drew a polite distance away from her, but the hand at her shoulder slid down her arm to lace her fingers with his. Bulla squeezed them tenderly in return, and he tugged her along, leading the rest of the short trip to their shared quarters, his heart violently palpitating with every step.

/*/

"Here ya go, boys," Veron snorted, shoving a battered and bound female into the eager hands of the robust, orange and scaly guard across from him. The woman screamed against the gag tied around her mouth, struggling to wrench herself out of the soldier's grasp, but her terror only served to amuse them and the lab-coated scientist standing off by the entrance of the empty storage room. "Just as promised."

"She smells great," the guard snorted against the terrified female's ear, and she recoiled away from him. "Did you get her all worked up just for me, Veron?"

Veron snickered. "Something like that, Brez. Don't worry; she'll be fun for you." His vicious eyes glanced up to the slowly advancing scientist, and he narrowed his gaze. "We have a deal?"

The scientist stopped just shy of the soldier and the woman, and his approach brought the woman's thrashing to a halt, but her trembling intensified as she went ramrod-straight. His hand reached out to cup her pretty cheek, even despite the tears streaming down her face. Silently, desperately, her eyes plead with him to save her somehow, but he made it clear he had no intention of doing so, as his spindly fingers began to dig into her flesh.

She whined behind the cloth in her mouth, her eyes scrunching closed and her head trying to turnout of his grasp, but he held fast. After eyeing her for a few seconds longer, the scientist smirked and nodded.

"Deal. We'll have your girl ready tomorrow."

/*/

Every kiss was absolutely unlike anything her imagination had ever conjured, but each was nevertheless exhilarating and consuming. As soon as the homing room door had closed behind them, Bulla had dragged Goten down into another earnest kiss, unwilling to risk his misguided conscience get the better of him after coming so far. To her delight, it hadn't, and Goten's massive arms received her just as eagerly, drawing her flush against him.

They had made it to the sitting room couch, groping fervently at each other until the backs of his knees caught the edge and Goten staggered into a seat with her settled halfway astride him.

Bulla canted her head to the side, allowing him ample access as he trailed hot kisses down the column of her neck, his index finger pulling aside the collar of her suit to expose more pale skin to his wandering mouth. Her eyes drifted closed as she relished his ministrations with a sigh, her clenching fingers woven through his spiky hair and each tug seemed to spur his exploration further. When his lips closed around her pulse point, Bulla whined and arched in his lap, and she felt him stutter against her.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Goten panted against her shoulder, trying to push at her waist to grant space between them, although his firm grip implored her to stay. She opened her eyes to peer down at the cowlick on his crown as he pressed his forehead against her collarbone. Her body shivered as his breath fanned heavily against her chest.

When he had composed himself, Goten cleared his throat and pulled back so he could look up at her. His black eyes were hazy and glazed over, but something made him flinch when he took in her face. Off her furrowed brow of confusion, he glanced away from her.

"What?"

"Sorry, just-" He swallowed, then worked himself up to peek up at her again. She felt his fingers flex over her waist. "It's just… it's _you_."

Bulla squinted at him, her hands pushing against his shoulders to lean her torso away. "I'm sorry, should I be someone else?"

"No!" Goten insisted over her burgeoning offense, his hands securing her closer, tighter. "No, no! I'm glad it's you," he assured her, and Bulla's skepticism morphed slowly into a forgiving smile. "It's just… it's still weird."

"Oh,  _that_ ," Bulla rolled her eyes in exaggerated exasperation and leaned down to kiss his left cheek, before she tipped herself off his lap and into the seat beside him. Her body missed the press of him, but she fell content as his arm curled around the small of her back to pull her against his side.

Goten scoffed above her head. "Yeah,  _that_. How is this not weird for you?"

She considered telling him about her crush; would it hurt?

Perhaps not, but her pride screamed its opposition whole-heartedly.

"It  _is_  kind of weird," Bulla agreed after a moment. "But I guess maybe it's because I…" She hesitated, catching her lower lip between her teeth, worrying the swollen skin. "I guess you see me differently than I see you." That didn't feel like a lie and it didn't feel like she had laid herself bare either. But the borderline confession still left her vulnerable, and she tucked her chin closer to her chest rather than glance back upward.

"... Wait, so what's the difference?" Goten asked, genuine curiosity hanging in his question.

Her fingertips danced at the curve of her knee and her heart began skipping beats under his attention. Bulla weighed how to phrase the dichotomy.

"I'm just your friend's sister."

She didn't mean it to come out bitter, but it had, and Bulla cursed both her parents for their moody genes' influence on delivery. Goten's fingers went slack against her lower back, and when he remained mute, Bulla snickered despite the uncomfortableness that had settled upon them.

"It's fine," she breezed, beguiling against the wave of disappointment that washed over her. "I mean, it makes sense-"

"Well, hold on," Goten cut her off, and she looked up as he shifted away from her. Bulla suddenly had the impression of being in trouble, given the expression on his face as he regarded her seemed a little insulted. His eyebrows narrowed and his free hand came up to scratch under his jaw. "I was thinking about that today, actually."

"You did?" He lifted his eyebrows at her surprised tone. "Why?"

His significantly flat look made her blush.  _Oh, right_.

"Use your imagination," he grumbled. "But yeah. I think maybe that's what you  _used_  to be. Then at some point you were just my … friend."

As he said the word, Goten shrugged, the roll of his shoulder bumping her own in the motion. "You were never really someone, I don't know,  _available_  to me." Her head was unconsciously nodding along, attention rapt and undivided upon his face, even as his gaze had drifted somewhere across the room. "I think it just went without saying or being, like, conscious of specifically. And yeah, partly because of Trunks," he glanced at her now, blushing to find her staring. "And, uh… your dad."

"And what about now?" She hadn't meant to speak her question aloud, but there it came unbidden.

Goten opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came, leaving him half-gaping down at her at a loss of what to follow with. A wan smile spread over her lips then, and her elbow caught him friendly in the side. He recovered, cheeks still pink, and she felt his hand push gently against her spine again, as though he just remembered it was there, before he withdrew his arm from around her altogether.

"It's late, huh?" His voice sounded tired, and the words alone reminded Bulla of the exhaustion in her bones.

She stood from the couch with a bow of her head, and he followed after. Suddenly, a peculiar thought struck her, and Bulla peered between him and the hall. "Where, uhm…"

His head tilted in anticipation of her question. She cleared her throat and gestured toward the hall. "Are you going to … still sleep out here?"

If it was possible, he quite nearly went purple. Goten gulped hard, and Bulla was sure she could make out the sweat beading on his brow at the very suggestion her query had laid out for him.

"I, uh-" His eyes darted wildly toward the couch, then in the direction of the bedroom. "I hadn't…"

"I didn't mean… it's just, I can't imagine it's that much more comfortable out here," Bulla tried to laugh off the anxious tension mounting between them. "Honestly, if you want, I could sleep here and you could take the-"

"No, it's fine," he interrupted, voice almost an octave higher. He grimaced sheepishly. "I'll just stay out here."

She couldn't fight the pang of disappointment that followed his decision, while somehow her heart was simultaneously swelling with gratefulness for his chivalry. Bulla's mouth quirked to the side, unable to decide between a smile or frown, murmuring a quiet 'okay' before she moved around the couch. She had made it to a step into the hall when he called her name and his hand caught her by the forearm, whirling her around to hold her fast in place. A gasp of surprise escaped her as she peeked up at his determined features, his face now impossibly close and dusty rose under the dim light of the sconces.

"I… can I kiss you goodnight?" He requested nervously.

The hopeful question ignited the brightest flame within the torch she carried for him, and Bulla could only nod exuberantly as suddenly she felt like a moon-faced teen again. Goten bent over her, his kiss pressed chaste and gentle to the corner of her mouth.

Gradually, he receded, their noses brushing and his thumb stroking idly against her jawline. The timid smile he granted her cinched her heart up tight enough to choke her with affection.

"'Night," he told her, each syllable a soft breath against her lips.

"'Night," she returned, just as delicately.

Goten relinquished her cheek and stepped back, and it took her a few seconds to regain function of her jellied limbs. Bulla willed her feet back to the bedroom solo, despite baser urges demanding she drag him with her. She hesitated as she opened the portal, savoring the last look of him, before she disappeared for the evening with her heart beating in her ears and an ache in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Been working on this chapter for a while, as I kinda went back and forth on how I wanted to proceed with our lovers' new relationship and some of the impending rising action in the story. Thankfully, being on spring break last week gave me some extra time to put into banging out some details. Hopefully everyone is still having fun and finding the story satisfactory! I love all of your reviews and feedback, you are all so wonderful. Thank you everyone!


	10. chapter 10 (curio)

How long he had been laying there, he couldn't say, but Goten was sure he had rolled over for at least the fifteenth time since Bulla had retired to the back room. The couch in the sitting area was not nearly as comfortable a second night around, but he was suspicious of the discomfort, positive that had little to do with the cushions and a lot to do with his female friend a couple of doors down and their interactions earlier that evening.

He groaned, slinging an arm over his eyes, screwing them shut tight against the inundation of sense-memories that came with just  _thinking_  of her. It still seemed absolutely wrong to be thinking  _that_  way about her, but the weakest part of himself was starting to care less and less about the propriety of their situation. And despite what he believed to be clearly wrong, there was something beating feverishly in his chest that argued against that unspoken rule.

Holding her, kissing her had felt  _right_. Natural. Goten considered the ease with which he could take her hand and likened it the same, despite the obvious differences. It was… comfortable, in a place that offered little to none in the way of that.

But they didn't have time to get comfortable, Goten reminded himself. They needed to figure out a way to get out of here; they couldn't get distracted by whatever physical attraction was budding between them.

He withdrew his arm and stared resolutely at the ceiling. Yes, maybe he would tell Bulla that tomorrow when they got up, or maybe during the route to the mess hall. Maybe they could reinvestigate whatever  _this_  was between them when they got home.

Maybe it was all just temporary insanity for them both due to being stuck here together.

Maybe they just needed to get home first.

Then, he was struck- their upcoming match, test, whatever. What a perfect opportunity to try and bust out! They could figure out a way to catch their captors off-guard; perhaps even the two of them could overpower them when paired together. Excited by the prospect, Goten leapt off the couch and took five bounding steps toward the bedroom door, swinging it open with her name a gasp that died as a squeak in the back of his throat.

Bulla was asleep, tucked halfway under the thin blanket, her blue tresses spilling about the pillow and her bare right shoulder and leg peeking out from beneath the covers

 _Bare_? Goten swallowed hard.

The noise of his entrance or perhaps his mere presence startled Bulla awake, her keen Saiyan senses alerted. She shot up quickly with the blanket clutched at her chest, eyes wide in surprise. However, upon realizing it was him, her body eased.

"Oh, Goten," she breathed, relieved, and he shivered involuntarily at the sound of his name off her lips. "What … what are you doing?"

He understood he must've looked pretty dumb, hanging half into the room with his mouth open and eyes wild. Goten snapped his jaw shut, the hand on the door handle gripping it tight enough for it to creak under his effort to ground himself again. He retracted the offending limb and scratched meekly at the back of his neck.

"I, uh… I was just- I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about our fight," he muttered, not daring to look anywhere above the floor. "That it, uh, would be an ideal time to try and escape, right? Like maybe we should plan something?"

There was a long quiet, enough to encourage his gaze to drag curiously up from between his feet and up to her face. She was staring at him almost in confusion, her hold on the blanket loosened so that he could make out the edges of her little black bra. He pretended not to notice, even as his neck grew hot and his suit felt a bit tighter.

"... Is that it?" Bulla half-laughed then, giving her head a baffled shake. When he gaped stupidly in return, she smirked and rolled her eyes at his dumbfounded response. "Well, duh, dummy. I just figured we would talk about it… uhm,  _later_."

Her emphasis on the word made him blush harder, and Goten tensed and released both fists at his sides.  _Of course. Idiot._

"S-Sorry, then," he bowed, feeling very much a fool, and turned to leave in embarrassment.

"Wait, you're still going back?" Her question made him stall, and he glanced behind to find her … looking shocked then resigned by her own abrupt question. Goten's eyebrows threatened to narrow suspiciously at her, and she demured, looking away with a faint blush staining her cheeks. "I mean, you don't have to…"

Her invitation struck him low in the gut. Goten sucked a sore hiss between his teeth at her coy offer, and his eyes darted from her fisted hands still clutching the blanket to her chest back up to her face. Everything in him tore in half - desperate to run away and desperate to touch her again.

"... Yeeeah, I think I do."

"Please?" She implored, and Goten knew that dewy, pleading look all too well. She'd hit her father with it and he'd fall to her bidding immediately. He never could figure out how it worked that way...

Now, he kinda did.

"B," he sighed and ran an anxious hand through his bangs. "I dunno..."

"I don't want to be alone in here," her voice came out tiny and quiet, and Goten's chest cinched at the admission. He searched her for any sense of deception, but he could see the flicker of earnest fear in her bright irises.

Goten glanced away and heaved a breath, before he shut his eyes and the door behind him, crossing into the bedroom completely. He tried to ignore the finality of the click closing behind him, focusing instead on the satisfied smile Bulla flashed at him upon his acquiescence. His feet carried him toward the foot of the bed while his mind swam, and inside his guts swirled several emotions, all of them nauseating.

All queasiness amplified tenfold as Bulla scooted herself back into a recumbent position, head settling primly again upon a pillow. She looked like a princess from a fairytale, that one about the girl who needed a prince's kiss to wake up. His face felt like it was probably beet red, but if it was, she was kind enough not to say anything about it. Instead, as he stood staring, Bulla appeared to grow more irritated with his inaction.

"Well, don't just stand there, weirdo," she grumbled with an eyeroll. "C'mon." Her left hand gripped the top of the cover and flourished it, and the jostle offered him a glimpse of the pale skin of her thighs underneath.

Goten froze, brain glitching.

Warring instincts pushed and pulled. He began his approach once again, the stiff mattress giving nearly nothing as he knelt one knee upon it. Bulla watched him as he moved slowly, her eyes flitting over him when he paused beside her.

"Goten?" She asked of him softly, uncertainty in her voice as he stared down at her, bewildered.

Self-preservation won out at the last second. Goten gulped the lump down in his throat and picked up the other pillow beside her head before removing himself from the bed. He threw the pillow to the ground and settled on the floor, unable to meet Bulla's gaze as she sat right back up.

"Hey! What are you doing-"

"I'm just gonna sleep down here," he mumbled, making himself busy by fluffing the pillow, only giving her his back. "It's fine-"

"Goten!"

"I can't, B," he exhaled, finally looking up at her and instantly regretting it. She had forgone her modesty in her surprise, leaning her scantily clad torso over the edge of the bed to peer at him in indignation. Goten peeled his eyes up from her bra-covered chest, only to find her glaring deeply at him.

"Because, what? You think I can't restrain myself?" She scoffed.

Goten shook his head and looked down. Shame washed over him anew. "No, because I can't."

Silence fell between them as he lowered the rest of the way to lay on his side, at once hating the decision if only because of how fucking uncomfortable it was. He listened to her shift back into place on the bed, but Goten didn't dare roll over. Already other desires were dancing around his brain, and any extra visuals were just going to complicate matters more.

He let his eyes drift closed, trying to focus on the sound of her measured breathing behind him.

/*/

"Gohan!" His wife's face illuminated the small screen, teary and a bit pixelated, but Gohan's face split into a wide grin as she came into view. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes, yes, honey! Can you see me?" He asked and she confirmed as Bulma nudged around Videl, twisting at something underneath their camera. Suddenly the image brightened and clarified, and Videl's wistful face became clearer.

"How are you?" They echoed together, and their giddy laughs mirrored one another.

Behind Videl, he heard Pan gripe loudly, "Hurry up! I wanna see dad, too!"

"Pan! You're there? Come here, let me see you!"

Videl shuffled to the side some to allow for their annoyed daughter to take up half the frame, and Gohan felt a pricking behind his eyes. Longing for his family ached in his chest, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and touch the screen in front of him.

"You both look great," he muttered and cleared his throat of the lump thickening there. "I miss you both."

"We miss you too," Videl sniffled, and Gohan watched Pan embrace her with one arm around the shoulders. "Are you doing okay out there? Bulma said you guys rescued someone?"

Gohan nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "They were runaways from the Institute. They had crash landed and were being hunted by bounty hunters. Worked out for the best, though. We sent them on their way, found the coordinates for where the Institute is currently stationed. Vegeta's cracked a pretty clever plan for when we get there, too."

"How far out are you from them?" Videl asked.

"We're about a day and a half's time from their location."

Pan bristled, he could see it out of the corner of the screen, and before he could wonder of her demeanor, she growled, "Don't you dare do anything stupid, dad. In and out, that's it."

He gave a self-deprecating snort, but nodded on his daughter's behalf. "I think this whole thing is probably stupid. But don't worry; we're pretty sure they're not expecting us-"

"And if they are?" Videl piped, and he hated the quiet worry that furrowed between her brows.

Pan was willing to voice the second part of that question, all snitty skepticism. "Does Vegeta have a clever plan for that scenario, too?"

Gohan bit the inside of his cheek, his mouth pursing to the side in consideration. He knew Bulma was back there behind them, and he wasn't sure just how much of the plan Vegeta had divulged to her yet. The truth was, besides the infiltration plan, their only other option was probably brute force. While Vegeta was confident there was no chance anyone there could surpass them in power, Gohan was sure their numbers and tech could give them a run for their money.

Instead, he crooked a smile at his wife and daughter. "We've got it figured out. We'll be okay."

"You better," Pan sighed, and she began to interrogate him about his experience so far through space.

/*/

A nagging pulsing was what woke her at first. A pulling ache that had settled low, made her whine in her sleep. But Bulla registered groggily another sound in the room with her, snoring; and it all came back.

She rolled over, making out the curve of his shoulder beyond the edge of the bed on the floor. A small spark of annoyance tickled in her chest. Bulla had fallen asleep angry at him, but it seemed silly now. It was ridiculous to be mad at him for being a gentleman, but her heart had fluttered vibrantly at the thought of waking up next to him.

Not exactly like this, however.

Bulla rested her chin on the heel of her hand as she observed him a little closer, a little more intently. Under sleep, Goten's features had softened adorably. He was so handsome; she had always thought so. And it really was sweet of him… she chided herself, embarrassed by her irritation with him earlier.

"The staring is a little creepy," his sleepy voice muttered from below.

Bulla went pink at having been caught, but she'd rather own it than have someone exploit it. "Don't mind me. I'm just enjoying the view," she sighed breezily, granting him a smirk when he rolled over with a surprised look on his face. "Still comfy down there?"

"I'm alive," he offered as an alternative and shifted to his side to face her.

She raised an eyebrow at him and Goten snorted, shaking his head and glancing away with a dim blush on his cheeks.

"Comfort is overrated these days," he grumbled and glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "Alive is better."

"Don't be so dramatic," Bulla groaned. Drama of her own flair inspired her to throw herself back down on the mattress and onto her stiff pillow.

The bed creaked as he climbed up from the floor and perched on the edge. She could decipher from the lines between his brows that he was thinking hard about something, but Bulla was a more distracted by his sudden proximity. His thigh was close enough that she could touch it with her fingertips if she wanted - and so she did. Bulla ghosted her fingers across the thick muscles of his thigh, instantly earning his attention.

"We shouldn't-" Goten all but spit out as her hand began to flatten against his thigh. When she opened her mouth in return, he turned away from her; maybe he hadn't meant for it to come out. She slowly withdrew her hand, feeling more and more uninvited the longer he looked the other way.

Staring at the far wall, he continued resolutely, "I mean, I don't think while we're here- Probably, we shouldn't…" His voice trailed off as gradually his dark eyes drifted upon her again, and he found himself lost of thought.

The conflict was evident there, eating him up from the inside out as he took her in. Bulla felt icy rejection begin to grip at her heart, and that spoiled child in her refused it. Her hand landed once more upon his leg, her eyes narrowing to meet his wary stare as she sat up. With each heartbeat, she grew more furious at being told 'no' to something she had wanted for so long. But the other part of her - the kinder part - tried to understand.

"I think you're  _dumb_." She clenched her hand over his thigh for emphasis.

He blinked, dumbfounded, in mute response. Lifting up to her knees, Bulla reached with her other hand to bring him in closer, fingers grasped around the side of his neck and tugging gently. Her heart thundered in her ears as, nose-to-nose, his shallow breathing hit her lips. Against his thigh, Bulla tightened her fingers once more, anchoring him.

Goten swore under his breath, his eyes searching her face, and she felt his pulse quicken under her hand.

"I think …. you're probably right," he exhaled pitifully, then leaned forward, their mouths melding in an eager kiss. His chest was warm against hers as he shifted closer, his tentative arms embracing her, calloused hands sliding up her bare back. As their kiss deepened, her confidence bloomed, and Bulla's hand at his leg lifted to frame his jaw.

Slowly, Goten maneuvered above her, as Bulla eased back upon the mattress, coaxing him along by the mouth. She sighed blissfully through her nose as his tongue traced over the tip of her own, teasing lightly, and she caught his lower lip between her own. He groaned and broke away with the wet smack of their parting lips, diving nose-first into the crook of her neck where he began to tenderly lave at the pale skin.

To accommodate his massive form, Bulla's knees spread wide, and he shifted into the space she made for him. His weight was so heavy atop her, nearly suffocating, and her burning insides ached with longing as he settled. With a whine, she rolled her hips up into his, and Goten hissed with teeth pressed against her neck as he rutted back against her.

" _Fuck_ ," he swore again, and she felt his damp forehead push against her collar bone. "Dammit, Bulla,  _where_ are your clothes?"

She huffed an airy laugh over the curve of his ear, giving another cant of her hips against his. Goten moaned softly, hot breath stuttering over her chest, and she could feel every muscle in his body strain to hold steady.

"Well, I usually sleep in silk, but they're lacking here."

"What if someone came in?" He muffled into her shoulder, peppering kisses over its curvature. His left hand began tracing over her side and down, fingers dancing and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Someone did come in," she shrugged on sigh. His wandering digits glided over her belly and pressed, and Bulla's mouth fell open. Her firm stomach muscles tensed, and his hand smoothed back and forth as though to soothe her nervous flesh. Where his lips touched along her sternum it vibrated through her skin, right down through her skeleton, and Bulla couldn't stop her fingers from coasting through the spikes of his jet black hair.

Goten had paused in his exploration of her, hovering just over her bra-clad chest, and his shaky breaths made her shiver. She glanced down at the top of his head, rolling her lips together in anticipation of his next move, every fiber in her being pulled so taut she thought she'd tear in half.

When he turned his face up toward her, Bulla fell charmed; his tanned cheeks were still tinted rose, up all the way to the tips of his ears, and his expression was drawn somewhere between embarrassment and bashfulness when he realized she had been watching him.

In mere seconds, the erotic had become endearing, and her chest tightened painfully with adoration for him.

Feigning casual, Goten cleared his throat, resting his chin on her chest just above her breasts. "So, uh…. Wow. That escalated, huh?" That hand on her abdomen crept back up into view and laid to rest over her left rib.

A quivering laugh pulled from her, and his body shook between her legs with her tremulous giggles.

"Quickly," she breathed, now a lot less confident when staring him in the face. If a soul could blush, hers would, and Bulla looked to the side as her knees knocked against him. "Guess you're not so dumb after all."

"Ohhh, I'm the dumbest," he mumbled, pressing one more kiss against her cleavage before he pushed up on both hands to peer down at her, a rueful smile twisting his lips. "Trust me."

"What do we do now?"

His mouth moved to open in reply, but both of their stomachs answered before he could. Loud rumbles roared from their middles, and while Goten erupted into boisterous guffaws, Bulla cringed in mortification, both hands covering her face to receive her embarrassed cry.

/*/

The bright dash and console flickered vibrantly with a new signal. Vegeta swiveled in the head chair, gloved fingers tapping at the screen to reveal a pixelated text box updating them on their coordinates. They were close - making good time. Though if it weren't for the boy, he probably would've gotten there and back a hell of a lot quicker.

As it was, maybe the way things had worked out so far had been for the best. Vegeta wasn't stupid or blind; an organization like this clearly had the advantage. But he had little doubt in his mind that he alone would be enough to overpower their initial forces, and with Gohan along it would be a cinch.

No, the real trouble was going to be finding and extracting their people in the first place. Without knowing what kind of precautions were being used to hold them, it was hard to truly gauge the possibility of unscathed success. Clearly it whatever the Institute had was enough to restrain them both or the two of them would be home by now. Vegeta recalled several devices for subservience that he and others had endured while under the rule of Frieza.

A shudder ran down his spine, as visions of the past and imagined scenarios involving his daughter traced through his mind. Just as quickly, brutal resolve flashed over it, and Vegeta beat a code into the console. He wouldn't dwell on the past and what ifs. He'd rescue Bulla, without question.

"What's it saying?" Gohan's voice came from the cockpit hall, drawing him out of his pensive starw. Vegeta turned half toward him as he approached, observing as Gohan took the co-pilot chair beside him. "Anything new? I just got off the vid with Videl and Pan. Bulma says hello."

"We're on track," Vegeta shrugged and leaned back in his seat. His dark eyes slid back toward the wide window that opened to the empty black spread before their ship. "Timeframe still stands."

"Good," Gohan nodded, but there was something unspoken under the affirmation.

"What?"

"I was wondering… have you given more thought to what we're to do if we get there and they've expected us?"

Vegeta snorted and threw a scowl toward the younger man. "If that's how it turns out, there's not much to plan for except to fight our way through."

"But what about Goten and Bulla?" Hearing her name, Vegeta nearly flinched. "If they-"

His gloved hand smacked down on the arm of the chair, and Vegeta drew himself to full height. "If this 'Institute' is after what we think it is, they're going to protect those two at all costs. At some point, we're going to have to battle." He menaced a step forward, brandished forefinger pointing toward the window. "I'm leaving that place with my daughter. If I have to kill anyone who gets in my way to do that, then so be it."

Gohan looked away with a grimace. "I'm not killing anyone, Vegeta."

"Then say goodbye to your brother," Vegeta growled. "They're not going to give him up without blood. Yours or theirs."

Their eyes met intensely, both on opposing approaches for the same goal. To Vegeta, it was clear - priority one was Bulla. He'd coated his hands in blood for less than this. There was no question in his mind the lengths he would go to rescue his daughter, and Gohan was gravely mistaken if he thought Vegeta had any inhibitions when going into the mission.

"If you screw this up with your cowardice, you'll be figuring the rest out on your own," Vegeta's voice echoed the threat that had been bouncing in the back of his throat for days now. He was a bit surprised with himself that it had actually made its way out, but his eyebrows set determinedly upon Gohan's aghast expression.

"Really, Vegeta?" Gohan wondered, still taken aback. "You'd do that to me? And Goten?"

"I should have made myself clear from the beginning," Vegeta grumbled, standing his ground and doubling down. "My only goal is to find Bulla and bring her home.  _If_  it's possible, your brother, too. But if it turns south and I only find an opening for her, then that's how it's going to be. You make sure you do what you need to for your own."

Deafening silence settled between them; tension drawn like a bow. Gohan stared wordlessly up at the older man, seemingly caught somewhere between disbelief and disgust. Unable to bear another second of it, Vegeta brushed by his chair without parting, storming down into the chambers to find the gravity room.

Privately, he hoped more training would prevent the scenario he had just laid out.

/*/

Tickling butterflies had not ceased their fluttering in her belly since their morning escapade. Bulla was aglow as she worked that morning, all but floating through the day. It was easy to almost forget the situation they were in and where they were.

"SAY-01."

Almost.

Bulla looked around to find her supervisor flanked by a guard and scientist, and her heart dropped at once. The soldier was beefy and covered in iridescent orange scales, and something about his very presence spiked a different kind of fear in her. The scientist looked equally mean, albeit much less intimidating, a skinny lizard of a thing.

"What is it?" The best antidote to fear was confidence. She set down her wrench and piece of equipment, wiping the back of her hand across her sweaty brow as she cast a suspicious look between the two. "Doctor," she amended off the mouse's warning glower.

"You're wanted by the lab," Doctor Zuich indicated toward the duo accompanying. "You'll be leaving with Doctor Renken and Major Brez now."

If possible, upon mention of his name, Brez the guard's wickedness amplified, and a chill dripped down into Bulla's now heavy stomach. Instinct was calling for her to argue, and if her father had left her with any lesson in life it was to trust her gut.

"I… have a lot of work," she gestured at her messy workspace. Indeed, her space was littered with a varied number of materials, but the excuse fell flat. Her supervisor declined, and in a few short minutes she was being led out of her lab and down the corridor with the two of them.

Something about them felt wrong;  _smelt_  wrong. It reminded her of walking with female friends downtown to bars, when groups of men would look at them sideways, unaware of who she was.

They turned her down several hallways where she noticed a gradually diminishing traffic. Brez was close, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with her as they escorted her, and Bulla wondered if any other soldiers had taken such a close stance with her before now. He kept stealing glances down at her, snake-like tongue slipping around to peek out the corner of his mouth, and her skin crawled all over every time.

Renken pushed open a lab door in an all but abandoned hall. The guard ushered her in before them, but the second the door shut behind her, a clicking sound echoed and familiar fog began to fill the room before her. Bulla whipped around, mouth opening furiously to scream, but she dropped to the floor with gagging coughs. Her head began to swim, her vision doubled, and blackness took over from her peripheral.

Throbbing struck behind her brows.

"Wake up."

A thud hit her side.

"I said, wake up, princess."

Bulla groaned and rolled to her back, every limb feeling weighed down as though by fifty times gravity. Her eyelashes fluttered and the room spun into focus. It wasn't the lab she had been in previously, but she recognized this area clearly.

It was a power testing room. Stark white walls and ceiling tiles to match those of the floor met her immediate line of vision. When she canted her head to the side, Bulla glimpsed the wide observation window, where her psyche registered two presences behind the protective glass - Brez and Renken. However, a third individual was recognized in this space, and Bulla's gaze slid sideways and upward.

To her right, she found Veron looming above her, a vicious glint in his eyes. His smirk broadened as he watched her come to, and his bulging arms unfolded from across his chest as though in welcome.

"Good morning, princess," he crooned. "Glad you could join us."

Awareness clarified. Bulla rose shakily to her feet, and her fear tripled when she glimpsed his wrists absent of binds, while her own were very much in place.

"What are we doing here?"

"Think of it like another baseline," Veron sneered with a crack of his knuckles.

He advanced a step and Bulla shuffled backward. "I'm not scheduled-"

"Yeah, this one's kind of… 'off the books', you might say," he chortled. "I heard about your fight with the Saibamen and who you were and, well, I'm just going to be frank with you, princess, so as not to waste more time. I'm gonna kill you and end your sorry monkey race once and for all."

"You can't…" She backed up another step and panic mounted as he closed in. "Vatet-" Her voice croaked when his large hand shot out, snagged her by the throat, and squeezed. She squirmed in his grasp as he lifted her from the floor and high into the air, her dangling legs thrashing wildly and her hands scrabbling for purchase at his massive one around her neck.

"I can, bitch, and I will," Veron growled with villainous glee, fingers clenching tighter, and her mouth moved desperately for air. He shook her and Bulla felt a shriek in her chest, but with no air to expel, it burst there. With another clench, he flung her down sharply to his feet, the force of which creating a Bulla-shaped dent in the floor.

Every bone in her body crunched. Every joint ached. Her lungs, deprived of oxygen, struggled to draw a breath, as her nerves lit up with horrible pain upon impact. She sobbed when her chest could finally fill, just as his heavy boot connected into the small of her back, sending her flying across the room. Her small frame rolled helplessly along the tiles and kicked up rubble in the wake.

Bulla lay trembling on her stomach, face-down on the ground. The fresh wounds and scrapes on her face and hands stung and red warmth ran down the side of her cheek. This was pain and terror she had never known in her life, flashing through her like lightning - but, just as strongly, was fury.

Grunting, she turned her head to the side and squinted, able to make out Veron's approaching footfalls. With a sharp inhale, Bulla rose to her feet, panting raggedly to drag in air. When Veron stood before her, his fist raised, and he swung down with incredible power. On a reflexive one-two move, Bulla drew her right forearm up to block, while her other fist sucker-punched him in the ribs.

Veron choked out a groan of surprised, large mouth gaping and eyes bulging down at her.

Bulla blinked up at him, and then down at her binds.

Then back at him and his ugly, horror-struck face.

A toothy grin spread over face and, with an enraged cry, Bulla's ki surged. She pulled back her block and caught him in the jaw this time. Veron went careening to the left, his hulking form cracking the chamber wall and thundering the room around them.

"What the fuck?!" He roared through the dust as it settled, and Bulla stood fast as his eyes burned toward the window. "Why the fuck can she hit me?!"

Static from above sounded. "Her binds only respond to other binds and behavioral chips," crackled Renken's voice overhead.

The beastly man howled in anger and pushed to his feet. Across from him, Bulla assumed her defensive stance, ki illuminating and pulsing through her. It was like being set free from a cage, her heart sang as her power rose, and an old and primal urge to decimate tickled her synapses. She had never been one for a fight before; not like this.

She spit blood to the side. Veron growled and hunkered down, muscular form doubling in size as he increased his own power. "Doesn't fucking matter," he hissed. "I'll break your puny little body anyway."

Veron lunged toward her and Bulla met him in the middle. Furious blows traded between them, blocks and punches from left and right, until Bulla caught him stiffly in the neck with a surprise kick. He fumbled, bloody spittle flying, but recovered in a blink. His hand grabbed her long hair and shoved down, pushing her face into the floor with amazing strength. Grit and stone scraped viciously, tearing her flesh as he dragged her along, before she was lifted and thrown into the adjacent wall.

Bulla's chest struck the wall first, and she coughed out a cry of agony amidst the sensation of snapping and fireworks alighting behind her ribs. She braced her palms flat against the wall as she tried to catch her breath, but Veron had advanced too soon, colliding both of his feet into her back to crush her once more into the side of the chamber. Her hands filled with luminous energy, which she used to jettison them apart from the wall. The pair went flying, both tumbling along the ground.

"Fuck you," she heard him gurgle into the rubble. Bulla struggled to her feet, panting, in tandem with Veron. He spit in her direction and wiped his hand across his split mouth. "You're gonna die here."

Bulla laughed breathlessly, much to his confusion, and attempted to smear back her crimson-tinted bangs. "I really… I didn't know it, but I really needed this." Another laugh, but this time the sharp sting in her chest that accompanied it made her nearly double over. Her fisted hand clutched the tattered suit at her bosom.

Veron snickered. "An ass-kicking? I'm sure you did."

Finding the strength to rise to full height, Bulla grimaced as her joints agonized in protest. "I did, actually," she sighed. "But I don't think I can beat you like this."

"If you think you can beat me, then you really are just a stupid monkey."

She shook her head with a thin smile. Her left eye was beginning to swell and blood was clouding her vision, but she could make out his confident grin from here. Bulla wondered if she looked just as cocksure.

"I'm not wrong. You just don't know any better."

Before he could question after her, Bulla inhaled as deeply as her broken ribs would allow. Her power increased tenfold, twentyfold, golden and white-hot through her veins. She squeezed her good eye shut against the searing burn of ki that alighted her skin, that flooded into every follicle of hair on her body and head, until everything hummed brilliantly around her. When she opened her eye, the world within five feet around her was bathed in a golden hue, and Veron was staring at her in open-faced awe.

It evened out - she wasn't used to exerting this level of power. As she focused in on him, she found him vacant of his victory certain. Bulla flew forward, a flurry of strikes traded effortlessly on her part and with mounting struggle on his. Veron yelled in her face, managing to catch her right hand and twist, snapping almost every bone violently. She screamed, but it was muted by the roar of the ki blast he fired at her side.

The energy was scalding and shredded her suit. Bulla forced her good hand up and returned his blast with equal, double, triple vigor, forcing his arm back and killing his blast at his palm. Veron rumbled and yanked hard on her arm to bend it awkwardly behind her back - but Bulla was well-versed in defensive maneuvers. Shoulder popping, she twisted out from him as though ballroom dancing, granting enough quarter to shoot several purple beams at his face and gut.

He released her, and his body collapsed in a thunder of chipped tile and smoke. Bulla dropped to her knees, golden spikes descending back to bloodied blue that stuck to her cheeks, her neck, her back. Her hands splayed on the floor as she heaved for ragged breaths, and with her good eye she peered over at Veron's still and beaten figure. His ki was infinitesimal, almost unrecognizable, and in the midst of her wild train of thought, human relief assured her was still barely alive.

Bulla shuddered, and she joined Veron's destroyed body on the floor, blackness consuming her whole.

/*/

The day had been going pretty well, all things considered. Sure, he had definitely solidified his own death sentence by copping a feel of Vegeta's daughter (like, what was life anymore?) but honestly there were worse ways to go out.

Goten had been buried deep in an extended play of the morning when something struck him odd. He hadn't realized he was in touch with her, but the flicker of Bulla's ki had began to move along with two others. Goten tried not to let it bother him, trying to focus on his work; his supervisor hadn't seemed like a big fan of his, despite how hard he labored. He'd managed to get through loading a few more pallets before her ki all but sparked in his psyche.

The strength of it startled him, Goten nearly dropping the entire pallet he had in his arms. And then, he sensed it - Veron.

His eyes darted between the exit and his supervisor. He should run. He should find her. But what would happen if he tried? Goten swallowed and set the pallet down hastily, before striding toward the exit.

"Hey, monkey! Get back to work!" The alien cried after him, but Goten feigned ignorance.

As soon as the door had opened, he broke into a full sprint, chasing her ki signal. It was sparking with Veron's, higher and higher, and he wondered briefly had he ever felt this kind of energy from her. Elevators hindered him; he wished he could fly to her. As the lift dinged and open, he dodged out between several guards and other captives and-

She fettered out, and he stopped in his tracks. Goten swallowed hard and shut his eyes, straining hard to find any sign of her, no matter how weak. A cry of frustration had begun to bubble up, when - there. His eyes popped open, and he turned around to run the other way down the narrow hall. He took another lift three, four floors down, chasing the weak pulse of her.

Goten wasn't sure how much time had passed since he abandoned his post, but it didn't matter when he was staring at the entrance to the infirmary wing. He jogged forward, sensing her closer now, and eventually it lead him to the fifth medical bay. Goten scanned his bind at the door, which parted with a hiss, and he strode in looking hurriedly back and forth in the otherwise empty room.

"Bulla?" He called, and his heart sank when nothing was returned.

His tentative footfalls carried him further into the room, and when he turned the corner, he found a large, domed structure with tubes coming from the top. There was blue-tinted glass around the front of it, and he could make out a bubbling liquid stored inside. As he approached, recognition brought him back to a jog, until his hands were pressed up against the glass.

Bulla was there inside the machine, a mask with a long tube covering her nose and mouth, her hair floating around her.

"Bulla!" Goten called for her, but her eyes remained shut. He pounded his palm against the glass. "Bulla, wake up!"

"She's healing, boy," a grumpy voice muttered from behind, and Goten whirled on his heel, one hand still fast upon the glass. A blue, cricket-like alien had wandered up, donning a lab coat. He had no binds - so a doctor, Goten surmised. "And don't go beating on that, either. She's got a little while longer in there."

Goten glanced back at Bulla, seemingly peaceful at rest in the machine. "What happened to her?"

"Great question," the doctor shrugged and sidled up to Goten's right. "Ah, look at that. You Saiyans and your genetics, you heal beautifully. She was pretty banged up, now look at her - pretty as a picture!"

"What do you mean 'banged up'?" Goten's fingers itched to snatch the small alien by the lapel, but he resisted. "How'd she get here?!"

"I found her, just laying on that cot over there," the cricket gestured toward a tiny bed by the far wall. Goten was horrified to see that it was all but soaked red. "Out like a light, nearly every bone in her arm and chest broken. Someone did a number on her."

Seeing a whole new kind of red, Goten glared furiously at his reflection in the glass, revenge on the forefront of his mind. "I know who it was," he muttered darkly, more to himself than the doctor.

"Well, we'll ask her," the doctor sighed and began to walk back toward the row of cabinets on the wall. "When she comes to. But unfortunately, chances are for her to be that done over, whoever it was had inside help."

"Are you kidding me?" Goten turned with a snarl. Disgust and fury trickled down his spine.

"It's not as uncommon as you'd hope, boy. Now, come take a seat and wait it out," the alien doctor commanded with a slam of a drawer.

Goten lingered with his hand over Bulla's face, smoothing over the glass as the cricket muttered low, "You're getting the glass all smeared up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm so sorry to everyone for the delay! Finals kicked my butt and dealing with some personal drama. Also, y'know, kids and work. Phew. Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for the extended absence! I've already started on the next one, so hopefully it won't take me as long! Thank you, all of you, for your reviews!


	11. chapter 11 (aberrant)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There be MATURE content ahead in this chapter, of the lemon variety! So be warned! Thanks for sticking with this fic, everyone! I'm glad everyone is still enjoying it. I love when I get the time to write for it, because I have my ideas all fleshed out in my head by the time that I do. Thanks for the reviews and the patience. Y'all are da best.

 

 

"I think she's about ready."

The doctor's voice hit him like a gong. Goten reared his head up from where it hung between his shoulders and sprang from the chair. He all but leapt the two bounding strides to reach the side of the regeneration tank Bulla had been healing in for the better part of two hours, and it was all he could do not to break down the glass that separated them.

"Slow down!" The doctor scolded him with a clicking of the pincers on his face. "You rushing doesn't make her come out any quicker!"

The doctor grumped to himself as he shuffled around to the control panel of the machine. His claws tapped at the buttons and multiple screens, and from the machine came a whirring and guzzling as the fluid inside began to drain into the floor underneath the tank. Goten resisted the urge to push his face against the glass like an eager child at the zoo, opting instead to fold his arms across his chest as he waited impatiently, foot tapping wildly at the floor.

The glass top of the tank cranked and rolled back into a space at the back of the hull, as the front portion began to mechanically descend. With a hiss, the tubing and sensors covering Bulla's mouth and temples retracted, leaving her drenched and sitting with eyes closed on the bench inside the machine. She almost looked mannequin-like, shiny from residue and still as a statue.

Goten swallowed when she didn't move. Tentatively, he shifted forward a step.

"Bulla…?"

Slowly, Bulla's chest - bound only by several layers of bandages - began to inflate as she inhaled, and her azure eyes fluttered open.

Relief hit him like a truck. Goten's knees threatened to buckle under the pressure of it. She was okay; he hadn't realized how much he needed her with him until this moment.

It was almost crushing.

Her glassy eyes wandered over his rapidly crumpling features, and her eyebrows drew inward in confusion. As awareness began to filter in stronger, Bulla started to sit further upright, and Goten shot out an arm to steady her as she stood up abruptly. Growing more frightened, Bulla's wild gaze flitted back and forth about the med bay.

"...Where are we?" She whispered up at him, and Goten's fingers flexed over her shivering shoulder where he held her still. Her ki was fluttering in panic.

"The infirmary," he spoke low and tugged gently to coax her closer to him and out of the machine. Realization dawned on her as she crowded herself against him, and he squinted at her wondering expression. "You don't remember?"

"Not really," she admitted, glancing downward. Bulla peeked back up at him, a dusty pink coloring her cheeks. He furrowed his eyebrows with uncertainty down at her. "Uhm ... where are my clothes?"

With her question, Goten became acutely aware of her nakedness huddled up close to him. Spare the bandages around her chest, Bulla was donning naught but a pair of white boy shorts similar to the spandex-like material of the guards' suits, leaving the majority of her lithe, alabaster form undressed.

His fingers threatened to squeeze her shoulder too hard. "I, uh-"

"You need an exam, first," the doctor interjected, and Goten was startled by the reminder that they were not alone. The cricket pointed at a long table nearby. "Go lie down."

Wary was the glance Bulla traded between the doctor and Goten. He sympathized; of course she would be unsure. But if they wanted to get back to their homing room, he knew she'd have to comply. His hand smoothed over the roundness of her shoulder, and Goten mustered the most reassuring smile he could down at her.

"I'm not going anywhere," he told her, and that seemed to be enough for her, as she only nodded silently in response.

Bulla crept toward the bed and crawled atop it with Goten's (unnecessary) assistance. She slipped down to a flat position on her back, and Goten caught himself staring as her chest moved slowly in purposeful, measured breathing. The doctor didn't take long in his once-over of her physical exterior, moving about her prone form and inspecting her from head to toe. When he was satisfied, the alien commanded her to dress, tossing Bulla a fresh jumpsuit from one of the cabinets against the wall.

Goten caught it mid-air between them in one hand, and he extended the other to help her climb down from the table. Blushing, Bulla took his hand and slid down. The sound of her bare feet against the tile floor made his stomach flip.

Swallowing against it, Goten proffered the suit, offering, "Want some help?"

"I feel fine, Goten," she told him softly and took it, unfolding the garment with a familiarity that made him sad.

He watched as she hurriedly redressed, only looking away when she lifted her eyebrows pointedly at his staring. Goten tried not to pay too close attention as the suit slid over her figure, his breathing suddenly becoming a lot harder than a few moments ago. When Bulla had gotten it over her arms and up, Goten butted in, his fingers taking the zipper at her back and dragging it up before she got a chance to argue against his chivalry.

Her cheeks were dark when she turned around.

"Thank you," she mumbled. Her hand tucked limp, damp blue strands behind her ear. It reminded him of high school.

"Don't mention-"

"So," the doctor interrupted them again, startling them both. "You say you don't know what happened, then? You were in quite a miserable way when I found you in here."

When Bulla shook her head in confusion at the doctor, he indicated toward the bloody cot she had been deposited on hours ago. Goten watched her inhale a shaky breath, eager to find out what had happened and worried whether or not they'd do so. If she couldn't remember, that was bad, right?

"I know what happened before  _that_ ," she answered his unspoken question and turned away from the cot, clearly set at unease by the visual. He couldn't blame her; the thing was still wet with how soaked through it had been with her blood just a few hours before. It still was uncomfortable for him to spare a glance, too. "I don't know how I got  _here_."

"It was Veron, right?" Goten spoke up, and Bulla raised her eyebrows in surprise at him. "I felt you. The both of you. What happened?"

"Let's see, shall we?"

Bulla glanced at the doctor, who had returned to his chair behind a small desk. He was busying himself with a thin hand-held device, clicking at the screen, and it wasn't until both Saiyans fell silent that he looked upward at them. Though hard to decipher initially, Goten could tell the creature was skeptical of Bulla, eyeing her from head to toe.

"It seems MAR-02 was dumped in another infirmary wing, a few floors down," the doctor announced as he set the electronic aside. "He's in critical condition. Apparently, the attending physician of that wing doesn't know how he arrived, either."

Goten heard Bulla swallow, and he chanced a peek at her. Unapologetic was a prime word to describe her, yet apprehension of what that might mean for her was clear across her pretty face.

"She defended herself," Goten broke the silence stretching across the room, defensive the accusation that hadn't yet been posed. "How about what he did to her?"

"Harm is harm," the alien shrugged and tipped back in the desk chair. "We'll see what's what when the soldiers get here. Don't get so ruffled."

"Soldiers?" Bulla and Goten chorused.

The doctor nodded and appeared nonplussed by their reactions of surprise and affront, respectively. "Of course. According to your profiles, you're both to be held in lockdown until the higher ups figure out to do about this … situation."

"And what is it we are supposed to have done?" Bulla snapped.

"Well," the cricket alien drawled as he retrieved his device once more, clicking it open, "it appears this one - " a claw gestured at Goten, " - abandoned his post abruptly, and you've put the last known male of a species on the critical list."

The doctor dropped the tablet again, and Goten was infuriated by the seemingly bored expression he wore now. "Doesn't an escort seem reasonable to you?"

The doors opened to the bay, and all three parties glanced over to find five guards spill into the room with arms held at the ready. With a chuckle, the doctor stood up from behind the desk, one talon clinking against the device screen. In that motion, Bulla and Goten's braces fastened together, each one's wrists bound with extremely powerful magnetism. Goten grunted from the force of it, his shoulders sagging in disappointment at being rendered useless in this way again. Bulla, however, shrieked and jerked her arms down, in a futile attempt to separate her cuffs.

"Be still!" A tall, hulking guard barked at her, and he menaced a thundering step toward her when she insolently continued to yank her arms.

When he growled another warning, Goten shuffled into the space between them, hissing at Bulla to stop her fussing. Reluctantly, the younger girl listened, dropping her arms in defeat and whipping her red face away from him.

/*/

The extra force of the gravity simulator was increasing the temperature around them drastically. Vegeta and Gohan were engaged in a furious sparring match, blipping in and out of focus from one another and meeting explosively in flurries of blows and blasts. Gohan's breathing had started becoming ragged in his exertion to keep up with the older man, and he thought fleetingly of when he was a child an probably would have kicked Vegeta's ass with ease.

A small part of him longed for that time.

With a cry, he struck toward Vegeta, but was only met with a smirk in reply. Vegeta twisted and kneed Gohan in his left rib, and he went down to his hands and knees with a burning cough.

"Get up," Vegeta panted, the back of his hand wiping at the beaded sweat on his brow. "We're not finished."

"I need… a second," Gohan heaved as he strained to even out his breathing. He squinted through the sweat dripping down his face to find Vegeta sneering at him.

And then Gohan only saw stars, when Vegeta open-palm smacked him across the face. Gohan flung to the side with the force of the hit. He groaned and rolled over to push up on one arm, listening as Vegeta's boots stomped closer.

"I said, 'get up'," Vegeta commanded once again. His arms had crossed over his puffed-up chest. "We don't have time for you to take a nap."

"I'm not napping," Gohan ground out and hopped to his feet when strength found in deep reserves urged him on. He shook his arms loose of growing tension, bouncing from toe to toe as he glowered across at Vegeta, burgeoning contempt for the man boiling toward the surface. "I'm trying-"

"You're not trying!" Vegeta barked over him, and suddenly the mood had shifted quite dramatically. "Or if this is your 'trying', then there certainly isn't hope for you and your brother!"

Gohan grunted and swung toward Vegeta, who canted back a couple of easy steps from his reach.

"We're all going to make it, Vegeta! Why are you being like this?"

Another attempt to connect, but the Saiyan Prince dodged effortlessly, never even bothering to uncross his arms.

"Being like what, then?"

"Like you don't care what happens to us!"

At that, Vegeta unfolded his arms and leveled a single ki blast at Gohan's feet, causing him to flip backwards out of the way to avoid damage.

"You're being an idiot," he growled and advanced. He punched forward, with Gohan blocking, and Vegeta pushed him further away from him. "I have already said my peace on the matter, boy."

"I'm here for Goten AND Bulla!" Gohan spat. "I would never leave without her! But you've made threats that you'd do just that to us!"

"Your view of what we're up against is limited," Vegeta snapped.

Both dove at one another again, a renewed vigor behind every one of Gohan's grapples. He was determined to knock that grouchy frown out from between Vegeta's eyebrows before this set was over.

"And I'm not willing to risk losing my daughter because of your short-sightedness!"

Gohan hollered loud as he lunged, throwing handfuls of ki at Vegeta in the small space between them. The older Saiyan dodged back and back, looking ever more furious with each blast, until he launched one of his own that consumed the onslaught.

The pair stood feet apart, each breathing heavily amid the smoke as it dissipated between them. Gohan rubbed at his face, his head shaking without him realizing it, and he wiped the gathering sweat from his nose, temple, cheeks with the collar of his shirt. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, and he could tell his lungs were beginning to struggle under the severe gravitational pull they were under.

A beeping sound from the console, and the fluorescent lights illuminated overhead as the gravity relieved back to Earth's normal. Gohan gasped as his lungs expanded seemingly twice as full, and he coughed into his fist fitfully. The standstill had begun to drag an ache through his muscles, but Vegeta was still standing apart from him, unmoved and - perhaps - disappointed.

"...Y'know, yeah, you're right," Gohan assented with a nod after a moment. "Maybe I haven't been all that concerned about the Institute. It's hard to imagine someone we -  _you_ ," he amended carefully, " - can't face."

In his chest, something tightened, and Gohan turned from Vegeta to spare him the tears burning his eyes. "Since my father's been gone, sometimes - rarely, but sometimes - you've filled that role for me." He clenched his fist, then opened it to himself, wondering when his hands began to look so old. "...Even more so to Goten."

There was another imperceptible shift between them. Gohan felt Vegeta's energy tense and release beside him, and he looked up to find the alien man he had somehow come to know as 'family' looking back at him with what Gohan could only describe as bewilderment.

Vegeta opened his mouth then closed it again, and if Gohan wasn't mistaken, a faint blush was tinting his cheeks. Vegeta looked away from him when he realized Gohan was watching him so carefully.

"I ... would never leave you and your idiot sibling behind," Vegeta begrudgingly admitted after a moment, tacking on with a sour glance, "Bulma, my children, and your harpy mother would never shut up about it."

"You needed to be inspired to fight harder and be ready for what's to come," he grumbled, half under his breath, as he stalked over to the console to conclude shut down of the gravity simulator. The machine hummed around them, as though the walls themselves sighed in relief.

Gohan nodded, feeling his own decompressing relief at the other man's confession, a barely contained smile edging at the corners of his lips. "Yes. Don't worry, Vegeta. I will work twice as hard to keep up with you!"

Vegeta humphed when he strode past Gohan. "You'll need to do better than 'twice as' to keep up with me, boy."

/*/

"Impressive."

"... That's all you have to say?"

Vatet smirked with an arched brow and tossed her the chart to the side of her desk. Her fingers laced delicately as she leaned forward, and Renken edged back in his own seat across from her, clearly on edge from her sudden proximity.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Renken. Would you like me to say anything more?"

Renken shook his head before words came. "N-No, ma'am, no! I-I…"

The red-skinned woman waved breezily across the table, an additional flick of her wrist summoning the soldier Pajeth from beside the office door.

"Oh, Renken, don't look so glum," she sighed, pretending to ignore the other scientist's gasp of shock as Pajeth boosted him up from the chair under the arm. "We appreciate your invested interest in our Saiyans. The Commander will be pleased with the findings from your -" Vatet glared at him from the corner of her eye, "- 'freelance' examinations. Thank you for your time."

Squirming in Pajeth's grasp, Renken pleaded with the head scientist as he was carried from her office, a high-pitched squeal sounding from the hall when the doors had closed behind them.

/*/

The Saiyan captives were unceremoniously returned to their homing room. The group of guards escorting them reminded them of the consequence of their second demerits. When the doors shut behind the soldiers, their cuffs detached instantly.

It wasn't clear which moved first, but at once they were upon one another. Goten's arms wrapped tight around Bulla's back and hers wound about his neck. He buried his face into her shoulder as she craned her neck up, pushing herself up on tip-toe into his embrace, both inhaling the comfort of being returned to one another. During the time waiting for her to recover, Goten had grown painfully aware of how very alone they were without the other - it was a feeling he never wished to be acquainted with again.

"I can't believe I'm glad to be back here," she hissed tearfully, and he laughed into her hair, agreement that his relief was just as unsettling. Bulla pulled back first, her eyes shining with fresh tears. "That was really awful."

Goten's hand brushed her teal waves over her shoulder and out of her face, the sentiment behind the gesture bringing a wilted smile to her lips. "You shouldn't be punished for this. It isn't fair."

Bulla grimaced and her eyes danced away from his face guiltily. "You didn't see Veron," she muttered, and shame was evident in her admission. Her gaze slipped further, beyond the walls of their chamber, somewhere he couldn't see. "I've never had to do that before."

"Are you okay?"

She nodded and turned her face downward, long hair hiding her features from his view.

"Yes." But he knew a lie when he heard it. "I mean, I guess I will be."

The amendment didn't make him feel any better. Goten crooked his index finger and hooked it around the point of her chin, tipping her head to look up at him again. He deflated at the sight of conflict written upon her features. Bulla had never seen this kind of violence in her life, let alone had to be the reaper of it; born in a time of peace and living a life of innocence had rendered her unprepared for the harsh realities of survival in the universe.

Hell, he wasn't even sure he was totally prepared for it all, either.

"I know you will," Goten agreed, the thumb of the hand holding her brushing over the round of her chin. Her jaw quivered in his hand.

"...I want to go home," her voice cracked over the words, and so did his heart as he witnessed tears splash over her lashes. Her eyebrows wiggled, struggling to reign the emotions in, but Bulla gave in and hiccuped and ducked her face away. "But it's getting harder to think we ever will again."

"Hey, hey," he shushed her, as her anguished belief cut him deeper than he'd like to admit. Goten tried to pull her close, but she resisted with a sniffle, her tiny fists pushing against his hard chest. "Bulla, c'mon. We're gonna get home. We can-"

"I think they know about me."

"Eh?"

"I had to turn Super Saiyan to beat him," Bulla rolled her shoulders in apology when his face must've fallen.  _Shit_. "He was so strong. I didn't know what else to do! I'm not a great fighter, that's all I had."

"We can find another way," Goten supplied hopefully as his hand cupped her shoulder. "Just stop pouting and let's think about it."

"I'm not pouting!"

Goten rolled his eyes. "Tell your bottom lip that."

Bulla reared her head away from him, and her hand flew to cover her offending mouth. He couldn't help but find a small amount of delight in the indignant scoff she breathed into her palm. Getting her riled him made it all feel normal for a moment.

"Don't be a jerk! I'm being serious!"

"I am too," Goten told her firmly. "We gotta at least try. Please don't give up on me."

Her downcast gaze wandered across the space between their boots. Eventually, she turned her face back upward, unimpressed but not as hopeless as before. The weight she had leveled on his heart in the moments prior alleviated.

"...Okay," she sighed. "We'll try. But…" Bulla's eyes slipped to the side, and Goten grew curious over her words left unspoken.

"'But' what?"

His attention caused the pink upon her cheeks to blossom further into red, spreading down her neck and up to her ears. Goten opened his mouth to ask after her, until Bulla's watery eyes found him again, startling him quiet. Her lips flattened into a sad smile.

"Nothing," she cleared her throat. When he made to ask of her again, Bulla wondered a little loudly, "What should we do now? Lockdown kind of implies…"

"That we can't leave, huh?" Goten grumbled and scratched under his chin. He hadn't really considered that aspect of their consequences. "I guess I should take a shower. I haven't in a couple days…"

"Sounds like a plan, count me in," Bulla agreed, though she paused when she realized the implication of her statement. Horrified, she gaped up at him, holding her hands up in defense. "N-not like that! Not, like,  _with_  you! Just that I also need one!"

"Uh, ha," Goten chuckled weakly, as a bazillion scary and tantalizing visions scattered across his imagination in the fleeting entertainment of her not-suggestion. "No, no, I-I didn't think that's what you meant."

"I can go after-"

"You should go first."

The two hesitated as they interrupted one another, staring at each other in unease. Eventually, Bulla gave a breathless chuckle and began past him toward the bathroom with a murmured thanks. Goten watched after her, his skin prickling in the rippling waves of tension left in her wake.

His nerves were stretched thin as she disappeared further in the bathroom, each one plucking in agitation as he listened to her shuffle, heard the shower head start, and there was the sensation of - annoyance? Aggravation? Something left unfinished.

Before he could think better of it, Goten's booming heartbeat and quick feet had carried him after her. He had barely raised his fist to knock at the bathroom portal when it swung open, revealing Bulla standing just on the other side. Her suit was unzipped part way, the top folded up over her chest by the arm not holding open the door. Goten's face blazed hot and furious at being caught, his hand left hanging in the air.

"Come here, please," she breathed, and he could've wept in relief when she surged forward on tip toe, planting a sweet kiss against his mouth.

Her suit top fell away as she dropped it to hug her body against his, and Goten welcomed her with open arms. He shuffled forward to usher them into the bathroom, and he was unsure if it was the steam from the shower warming him up or the burn of her skin under his palms as he skated his hands up her waist and around her back. Bulla's hands clutched tightly into the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer into her embrace, an unspoken urgency sweltering between them.

Goten's hands slid over her bandaged breasts, down to where her suit was bunched at her waist, before gliding down further under her backside. She squeaked into the space between their lips as he lifted and deposited her little figure atop the bathroom sink counter, her breath fanning against his mouth, but undeterred her legs parted to provide a space for him. Delicate fingers tickled down the top vertebrae of his spine, her hands searching for the zipper of his suit, and a vague sense of dread trickled over him.

When Bulla discovered it at last, she pulled eagerly, and it was the burning desperation to finally feel her skin against his that made him forget danger, forget propriety, his shoulders shrugging the suit down as her deft fingers peeled his arms out of the sleeves. The torso of his own suit fell loose between them, and Bulla gasped, a delightfully girlish noise that made every drop of his blood rush south, when his firm chest pressed against hers.

Her skin where they touched was so soft, so smooth. His hands flattened against the counter top, fingers flexing, his forehead pushing into hers as Goten pulled their mouths apart with a wet pop. They paused, both panting hotly into the other's air.

Fleetingly, Goten considered that he might be suffocating with her here, and whether or not that was a good thing. But her nose butted his, and he caught her eye. Her gaze was cloudy with lust, and there behind her deeply blue irises shone a hungry longing he felt, too.

"What are we doing?"

Bulla made a soft sound, somewhere close to a whimper and a sigh, and his dick throbbed when her knees tightened around his sides. Neither spoke for a moment, just breathing in the other's exhaling, and he could feel her heartbeat just as fervid so close to his own.

"What… what if we don't get out of here?" Bulla piped up softly. When he glanced up, her eyes had settled upon his collar bone, and her right hand was creeping up to follow her wandering gaze. "What if we really are here, forever?"

Her nails sunk gently into the skin there, and he sucked in a sharp breath when she released, leaving behind four pink crescents.

"I don't want…" Bulla swallowed, then attempted once more, a little less feather and a little more sure when her eyes found his again. Her hand smoothed back out over his pec. "They shouldn't get to choose for us. I want it to be different."

"Me too," he found himself agreeing, surprising himself with how much he truly wanted it to be so.

Goten's hand fell upon her waist, in silent acknowledgment of the intention behind her wish and his consent of the terms. In muted awe, her pinkened lips parted, and he stole forward with an eager kiss at the opportunity. Her fingers slid down his chest, over his stomach, to the stretchy material dangling open at his waist, making the muscles beneath twitch in anticipation. With little preamble, her hand snaked into his suit front, and his entire being strained to fold into her.

A groan fell out of his mouth and into hers when velvet fingers finally wrapped around him. Her hand worked him tentatively in the snug space between them, and Goten dug into the slab of the counter beneath her for support as ragged breaths stung his lungs and the most exquisite waves of relief rolled over and over him. A torrent of wild thoughts flooded him, Goten ducked his head to rest in the crook of her neck; had anything felt so satisfying? How long had he actually wanted this? Was this really happening? And how could he make her feel the same?

Did she know what this could mean?

"Bulla," Goten whispered her name out and pulled up, and blessedly her hand barely stuttered a beat. "I-"

"Don't say something stupid," she hissed at him. "Please, just pull your suit down."

Goten's throat went dry. That hunger reflected back at him had blown her pupils wide, flushed her cheeks, and commanded he comply. Hastily, his hands shoved at the suit, shirking it down to his knees. Sweaty palms returned to her hips where Goten held himself anchored to her, bowing over her petite frame to catch her lips messily once more.

Her steady hand had found a cleaner rhythm unrestrained, and it was all he could do to hold himself upright. Deep in his gut, he felt his release rising, faster than he'd like but crescendoing all the same. Desperately, his hand coasted up her front and tugged at the bandages over her chest, ripping them with ease. He caught a breast in one hand, the weight and warmth causing his throat to constrict in a moan, his hips canting into her stroking when she arched into his touch.

The coil bound low in his spine was tightening, tightening with every pump of her hand, and white hot and blinding, it came upon him almost by surprise. Goten grunted into her mouth and spilled into her palm, her own tiny moan reverberating all way through him. He continued to thrust shallowly into her gentle hand, breath heaving and white noise humming around him in the seconds after.

His name, spoken softly, roused him. Goten opened his eyes to peek at her, and he became altogether humbled under her patient stare.

"I'm sorry," he huffed, half a laugh and half a sigh. "I didn't mean-"

"I said 'don't say something stupid'," Bulla reprimanded him kindly, her right hand slipping away from his groin as the other framed his jaw.

Her lips pressed to his tenderly, and Goten exhaled through his nose. When they parted, her smile was a new one - he almost could place it, but not quite. It made him nervous.

He cleared his throat around the lump forming there, only just realizing his hand was still cupping her breast in that moment. Bulla seemed to mirror his realization, her eyes flicking down where he was loosely fondling her, then back up with a hint of a smirk twisting that foreign smile and lusty blush still coloring her skin.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry," he muttered again, dropping his hand after one (unapologetic) farewell squeeze. "So, uhm..."

"The shower stopped," she announced suddenly, effectively cutting through his awkward attempt at transition. She slipped down from between his torso and the counter and padded over toward the stall, while he busied himself with yanking his suit back up over his hips.

Ducking in, Bulla fiddled with the buttons on the shower wall, and the spray kicked on once again. "It must be on some kind of automated system. I don't even think I heard it."

"How …  _conservational_  of them," Goten mused with a snort, and he was pleased with the eyeroll Bulla threw his way. "That was a poor joke. My bad."

Why he was surprised, he didn't know, when Bulla began to undress her chest the rest of the way. She winced as she peeled the bandages apart from her sides, and Goten's body moved into action of its own volition. As his hands coaxed the strips away from her back, she hesitated in place, and he fell hypnotized by the goosebumps scattered across her flesh under his trailing fingertips.

Bulla began to shiver despite the heat radiating from the shower once more. Exposed completely from the waist up, her arms began to reflexively slide up to conceal her chest from his view. However, Bulla appeared to reconsider her modesty in the next second, and Goten's heart ceased its pounding altogether when she boldly dropped her limbs and allowed him unburdened view.

It wasn't the most attractive thought, but Goten considered how much she resembled her father in this small defiance, and quickly he derailed that train of thought by scooping her up into an embrace born of coursing affection for her.

"I think I changed my mind about the shower."

He tried to think about words hitting his ear softly, and definitely not the plush push of her breasts against his chest. "You don't want to take one?"

Bulla shook her head. Her shaky breath warmed the side of his neck as she seemed to nuzzle in against him. "I mean I want to take one with you."

Everything in him froze as his brain malfunctioned over the request. He drew back just far enough to meet her gaze. Finding no uncertainty staring back at him, Goten could only nod in meek agreement.

/*/

Trunks exhaled the plume of smoke slowly, his tired eyes watching it bend and twist as the wind drifted it away. He flicked the ashes and they tumbled off the edge of the ashtray but he paid little mind. He was trying to focus most of his attention on seeking out two familiar ki, both once so common place he would practically forget them and now so markedly absent he felt a vast emptiness without them present.

"That's a disgusting habit, y'know," Pan drawled, and he didn't turn as he listened to the sliding door close behind her. Her boots stomped up to join him at the table, a brusque movement from her causing the patio chair to squeak against the balcony floor. "I thought you quit?"

"Old habits die hard, I guess," Trunks shrugged, but put out the half-finished cigarette all the same. "Anything new?"

Pan shook her head with a sigh. "No. We've got almost all the dragon balls collected, we've got two left to get, but your dad said to wait on it. I don't know what he's thinking-"

"He's thinking we may need the balls for something else, obviously."

"Like what?"

"Like what if they're dead? Or if Gohan or Vegeta die?" At Pan's silence, Trunks nodded up at the sky. "Yeah, something like that."

"I don't think any of them are going to die. Stop being so macabre," Pan scolded him after a moment, though he could hear in her inflection she didn't quite believe that either. "Bulla might not be the best fighter, but she can hold her own. Goten and Gohan are strong enough, and your dad-"

Trunks sighed heavily to cut her off, his icy eyes glowering across to her. "My dad's scared," he told her. The heaviness of those words brought her wide eyes surprised to meet his. "We should've all gone."

"Right! That's what I was thinking! Why didn't they bring you and me?" Pan pouted as she toed the nearest patio chair leg.

He had an inkling. Trunks had voiced it before, but Bulma had forbade him from echoing it ever again. But here, after a few drinks and a smoke, lost in morose thought, he couldn't help but let it slip again. "Probably because they didn't want you and me to get caught up in it either. … And probably because if Goten touches Bulla, my dad'll probably beat the crap out of him, too."

Both musings brought Pan to pause. She stared over at the older man, the drumming of her fingers on the table previously having ceased, and when Trunks looked over at her he was almost amused to find her so deep in consideration of his suggestions. Had she been naive enough to not understand either of those possibilities?

"Like, you and me being the next Saiyan Adam and Eve?" She grumbled, nose gradually wrinkling. "Ugh, gag me."

There was an innuendo in there somewhere; Goten would've found it. Trunks merely chuckled and shook his head at her. "I'm sure they're saying the same thing, huh?"

Pan scoffed, and Trunks arched a brow at her suspicious reaction of… amusement?

"I dunno, I'm sure Bulla may not have too many qualms about it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh… you never noticed?" Pan chuckled. "Bulla has the hots for Goten."

Trunks blanched. "Excuse me?"

Now it was Pan's turn to raise her brows, but instead of suspicion, she burst into full laughter. Trunks sat up a little straighter in his seat, caught off guard by this information, as his brain snapped through every childhood memory to try and dig up such a recollection.

"Oh yeah, Bulla's had a crush on him since she was, like, five," Pan rolled her eyes. "It's super gross. She's gotten better about it lately, though-"

"Dude, that's  _so weird_ ," Trunks groaned, low and long, pushing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "Why, why did you have to tell me that?!"

Pan shrugged, and Trunks privately hated the knowing smirk on her face. "I thought you knew! I didn't think she was that covert about it... I mean, obviously Goten's an idiot and never noticed, but you're her brother - I'd think you'd have known!"

"No, never," Trunks admitted and now his horror was beginning to morph somewhat into … shame. Shame that he maybe hadn't known his sister as well as before, shame that maybe he had squandered that opportunity to get to know her better.

The mood shifted. Silently, Pan scooted around so that her hand could settle firmly over Trunks' forearm, and his gaze met hers across the table. Her smirk had softened sadly, and her fingers squeezed him reassuringly.

"Hey, our dads will get them back," she told him with a positivity he wished he felt, too. "Stop moping and why don't you come help me get the last couple of dragon balls? Get your head out of here?"

Trunks considered this; he had been upset he couldn't be of more assistance in the rescue mission, left feeling useless while waiting. If anything, the trip to find the balls could at least provide a short escape. He nodded and agreed, and Pan flashed him a wide smile at his acquiescence.

"Alright! I get to take lead!" Pan crowed, victorious, as she leaped up from the table, and Trunks scrambled to follow close behind.

"What! No way, I'm lead!"

"First one to the Dragon Radar!"


	12. chapter 12 (wonder)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive and haven't forgotten my baby here!! Just this chapter took a lot of emotional investment that I haven't really had in a while. I don't want to write and rush through this. I care about my story very much. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait for you all! I'll try not to take so long on my next chapter. I think this fic will probably cap at around 15 chapters.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your sweet reviews! 

****Time seemed to be passing so slowly since they'd all been gone. Bulma had tried her best to busy herself with creating a replica of the vessel on which Vegeta and Gohan had departed, just in case they needed another back-up plan to the couple they'd already concocted. It's not that she didn't have faith - not a great many number of others could match her husband in power ( _in this universe anyway_ ) nor her in intellect - but there was too much at stake here to leave all their eggs in one basket.

She glanced at the watch on her wrist again; a masochistic tick she had developed, every five minutes or so finding herself checking the upward counting clock that denoted total time elapsed since her daughter was taken. Almost a week. It made her stomach plummet to the floor every time.

"Bulma?"

The blue haired woman startled, clutching the drill in her shaking hands tightly to her chest in surprise. Videl was peering around the hull of the ship at her, concern evident on her face. Bulma knew she was just as tired and worried as she was. Both women too strong to voice as much to the other, and in suit with that Bulma drew up a thin-lipped smile.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't here - what is it, Videl?"

"I just was asking if you had a 92-A7 carbon binder in the lab?" The other woman chuckled in a way that agreed to continue pretending everything was just fine. The constriction in Bulma's chest relieved. "I'm about done with this side."

With a click of a button at her waist, a bungee system released slowly, dropping Bulma to the laboratory floor from the several stories upward she had hung braced along the side of the spacecraft. Her boots hit the cement and the mechanism hissed as it disengaged, and she wasted no time in rifling through one of the nearby tool cabinets.

"I think I've got one buried somewhere down here, hold on," she called over her shoulder. "Hopefully it still works, it might need a charge-"

"Mom, we've got a guest!" Trunks' voice boomed over the intercom then, interrupting her, and Bulma reared up out of the cabinet to squint up at his pixelated face hovering in the air. "That Taco guy is here."

"Taco?" Bulma glanced across to Videl. "Did you order food?"

"It's  _Jaco_ ," she heard the cross alien grumble off screen.

Bulma didn't miss Trunks' barely concealed smirk. "My bad," he snorted, and my how he reminded her of his father. "Is he cool to come down, mom?"

"Sure," Bulma agreed, forgetting the carbon binder for the moment. "Bring him on down."

Videl had descended to the floor by the time Trunks, Jaco, and Pan had made their way into the lab. The mothers approached the two Saiyan hybrids, and Pan proffered two orange orbs from her gi pocket to the blue haired scientist.

"Oh, this is great!" Bulma sighed, taking the dragon ball as Videl wrapped her daughter in a tight embrace. "That didn't take long at all! Good work!"

"My tag along helped," Pan shot her thumb over her shoulder toward Trunks, who merely rolled his eyes.

" _You_  invited  _me_."

"Doesn't make you less of a tag along-"

"Jaco, what'cha got for me?" Bulma ignored the bickering to swing her expectant gaze on the patrolman, who froze immediately under her intent eye. "And it better be something good."

Jaco scratched at the back of his head, a bit of a grimace on his face. "I don't know, could anything in this situation really be 'good'?"

"I don't know, could I pop your head off your shoulders with a headlock?" Bulma threatened with a brandished forearm. "I haven't got time to waste beating you up today, so out with it."

"Easy, easy!" The small alien threw his hands up in meek defense, which earned another derisive snort from Trunks. "You and your family, always looking for a fight! Listen, I did come with some intel, but can't you be nice to me for once?"

Trunks bent at the waist to peer into Jaco's face, sneering, " _I_ could be nice to you instead?"

"Y-you told me Vegeta's plan," Jaco inched aside from Trunks as he stuttered over his information hurriedly. "And it's a pretty good one-"

"Obviously."

"But it's not foolproof," he finished, the wind vanishing from Bulma's sails with the presence of his doubt. "The Institute is pretty on it with their bounties, especially ones running a high price - worried about them getting taken to auction or being abused, I guess. They usually offer the hunters special gear, weapons, etcetera. Not to mention that on-site they've got multiple security checkpoints and referral stations, usually based on the hunter or catch's designated codes. Most of those security points have a handful of soldiers each, too."

His caution would not deter her, and it certainly wouldn't deter Vegeta. Bulma folded her arms across her chest as Jaco stared up at her warily. "I'm sorry,  _and_? My Vegeta isn't worried about numbers. He's annihilated whole armies before now with little more than the armor on his back."

"Commander Ku'am is building an army out of extremely powerful and dangerous species from all over the universe," Jaco's voice took on a darker, serious edge. "It's not a one-size-fits all in the Institute's operations. There's some creatures he's got that even the Galactic Patrol probably isn't aware of; some that have been thought to be extinct since before modern record keeping. And some he…" His harder tone trailed off uneasily, and Bulma eyed the bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

"...' _And some_ ' what?" Videl piped up, her hand clutching at the breast of her shirt, clearly more put off by Jaco's report than Bulma.

Jaco heaved a sigh, his yellow orbed eyes falling to the ground. "We have reason to believe the Institute has been genetically modifying species over the years. So that makes it doubly uncertain what your men are running headfirst into." He shook his head as a hand scratched at the side of his face. "I found a report of a Patrolman who located a sub-unit satellite housing and what looked like on-going genetic tests. When back-up came, they barely had enough time to acquire a couple of subjects before the satellite started self-destructing."

Both women gasped in surprise and horror as Jaco continued, "The Institute isn't stupid. They've been at this for a long time, and they've prepared for infiltrations. I'm just saying, your guys need to be on guard."

Trunks grunted, casting a wary side-eye toward his mother. "Yeah, dad's really good at that."

"Vegeta and Gohan just need to get through the doors," Bulma reassured all those gathered in her lab, including - just a little bit - herself. "Once they get cleared, I'm sure they can handle the rest."

When only silence met her in return, Bulma harrumphed in indignation and twisted away from the group, beginning to reaffix her suspension gear to resume work on the spacecraft. "Fine, think what you want. I know Vegeta.."

"Bulma, they have an intense sedative-"

"Gaseous and made from with a base structurally similar to a compound of pyrazolopyrimidine and paraldehyde, but strong enough to knock out twenty wooly mammoths in one go. You mean  _that_ intense sedative?"

Jaco ducked his head, and Bulma growled at his audacity to assume her intellect as less than. "How do you think they got those kids out from under this roof in the first place? I supplied the boys with filtered masks for when they arrive there. Anything else you think I should know?"

"No, ma'am," he muttered. "I, uh, put out the word with Patrol. See what they may be able to help with."

"Thanks," Bulma nodded as she clicked her gear back in place. More sincerely, she added, "For everything. We won't forget it."

"I hope not," Jaco mumbled under his breath as Bulma dismissed him.

/*/

It hadn't been much longer after their shower together when a barrage of guards entered the homing room to take Bulla and Goten. Blessedly, it had been just enough time for them to redress, with Bulla's fingertips barely leaving her zipper when heavy boots echoed through the front chamber door. Goten had pushed her behind him as best he could, but it didn't matter - both of them were to be seen by the lead scientist aboard  _Nukhu Rak_.

Their sets of binds clasped together as though handcuffs, the pair exchanging wary glances as they were escorted out of the room and down the winding halls of the station, and most occupants - both other soldiers as well as captives - kept a wide berth of the cavalcade marching toward the labs. Likely imperceptible to most, Bulla could almost feel the undercurrent of speculative whispers and apprehension radiating from those they passed, and her fingers twitched in longing to hold Goten's hand just a few feet away. She wasn't scared, but the sudden attention they had garnered was unnerving. Certainly others hadn't seemed so acutely aware of their presence before, had they?

Vatet's lab was as cold as Bulla remembered. She wondered if it was just the atmosphere of the chamber or the actual temperature setting; something about it was chilling to the bone, though she imagined it was likely due to her first experience within these walls. That memory alone was enough to make her skin crawl all over again.

The red-skinned woman was perched primly behind her desk, long fingers steepled and elbows planted on top as Goten and Bulla were ushered in and shoved into seats across from her. Her full lips spread into a cheshire smile that did nothing to alleviate the sinking feeling in Bulla's gut.

"Well, look at you both," Vatet sighed when they had settled, her hands fanning out. "SAY-01, I'm so happy to see you're alright. Aren't those healing chambers amazing?"

Bulla twisted her face away as the scientist clucked her tongue, almost disapprovingly, in her direction. "You gave as quite a scare. One of our most valuable specimens; you could have been irreparably damaged, you know? What would we have done then?"

"Like you guys give a shit," Goten rumbled from her side, and Bulla glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "How could something like this have even happened? If we're all so valued and special, shouldn't you be keeping a better eye on things?"

"Sometimes there are… less than honorable staff among us," Vatet appeared beleaguered by the discussion already. "Deals under the table, abuse of specimens. It's not unheard of. MAR-02 was working with one of our genetic specialists and at least one baseline moderator, and they had reached some sort of … mutually beneficial trade. Unfortunately, when we found MAR-04, she had been contaminated by both officers. Now we've got to place her and see if there's any use left."

"'Contaminated'?" Bulla parrotted, stomach heavy with dread. "What do you mean?"

"That's neither here nor there. We will ensure that the pair of you are kept at a distance from any MAR specimens. Let's review your recovery exam and we can move on." The scientist brushed aside Bulla's concern in a manner she found all-too-chipper. The woman's fingers snatched up the tablet from the desk corner, and she began ticking through screens. "Seems you're all healed… thankfully he didn't damage anything vital- perfect! Which means you're cleared to continue."

The finality of the words sent a shiver down Bulla's spine.

"Cleared for what?" Goten voiced her concern, and Vatet's insincere smile slipped back into place.

"Well, we've decided to move up your baseline," the scientist nodded between them. "Given the apparent target on your back," she gestured at Bulla, "and your penchant for earning demerits," she tipped her head at Goten, "We'd like to get it taken care of sooner rather than later."

Both Saiyans sat a little straighter in their chairs. Before either of them could speak up, two sets of guards crowded them, and Vatet slithered from her seat. Goten made to rise but one guard shoved him roughly back into his seat by the shoulder, and Bulla recoiled from the two soldiers menacing beside her.

A sharp prick stabbed the back of her wrists contained in the cuff, and the duo hissed in unison. From the initial sting spread a heaviness into Bulla's fingers, which she flexed much more slowly than her brain had commanded. The heaviness crept agonizingly up her arms and shoulders, and when she managed to turn her head to look at Goten, he had begun to attempt the same and only managed to slump forward.

His name dried up in her mouth as her teeth gnashed around the shape of it. With weary eyelids fluttering, her torso began to slide sideways, and as Goten's limp body was hefted out of the chair beside her, drowsy black enveloped her whole.

/*/

Distorted voices.

Cold air.

Hard floor.

Body numb.

Goten groaned and tried to will his limbs to move, even an inch, as he hazily took account of his immediate sensory surroundings. Voices that he faintly recognized echoed in the air above him, and Goten managed one heavy eye open against the weighty pull of whatever had him subdued on the ground.

"... hopefully we didn't overdose you," Vatet's voice garbled into recognition overhead.

A moan reverberated next to him, and Goten rolled his head to the side. Splayed along the stark tiled floor beside him, Bulla was attempting to stir to life. He stretched a hand outward to try and brush the length of her spine, and noticed that neither she nor he were wearing their binds.

"Oh! There we go!" The scientist sing-songed. "See, Sebius. I told you they're much more resilient than you're giving them credit for. Saiyans are an incredible breed."

As the weight began lifting from his bones, Goten pushed up to his hands and knees, until he found himself unsteadily back to his feet. "What the hell… is going on?"

"It's the sedative," Bulla mumbled as she also staggered up, Goten's arm reaching out to catch her as she stumbled and bumped into him. "It's what they've been using to get us around."

"A tranquilizer we've created here at the Institute. It can bring down any beast," Vatet spoke over the intercom, voice proud. "Though I've got to admit we've never had to dose any species to the degree we've had to with you. We'll have to monitor more thoroughly the long-term effects."

Goten became hyper aware of his surroundings the moment the fog lifted. In a quick peripheral scan of the area, he found no visible doors, but he imagined there was one hiding somewhere. It was the large window that caught his eye. His gaze narrowed.

"Don't bother," Bulla sighed, and his arm tingled where her hand squeezed him out of a murderous reverie. "The walls are shock absorbent. Anything you try will be nullified."

He wondered briefly how she knew what he had been considering, but then Goten remembered with a sinking heart that this wasn't her first time here. With that recollection, he began examining every corner of the chamber intently to find something, anything that could lead to an escape.

"We realize that it isn't likely either of you will harm the other," a male voice Goten didn't recognize crackled over the speaker. "Doctor Vatet has it on record that the pair of you have an affinity for one another. Thus, our charge to you is that whoever can best and pin the other will effectively be considered the dominant specimen."

"And if we refuse?" Bulla chirped from his side, and Goten smirked at her defiance.

But it fell when Vatet's voice replaced Sebius'. "Do you really want to find out?"

"Nevertheless, we expect to see the full extent of your power," Sebius continued unbothered. "Do not disappoint us."

The captive pair exchanged sideways looks. There was an undercurrent of adrenaline that had begun to roil in his veins at the prospect of a fight, Goten was a little ashamed to admit. His last spar was… Trunks, on that day, when they were taken.

And looking at Bulla, not really knowing what she was capable of, was an exciting challenge. Goten hadn't taken her on in years, even perhaps since she was a child. There were a few things about her he remembered from those days: she was more defensive than offensive, she was quicker and more agile than her brother, and she could go Super Saiyan but didn't like to because of how her hair changed.

He must have been visibly sizing her up, as when he met her gaze, Goten found an impish twinkle dancing back at him.

So she was excited, too.

"Ladies first," Goten gestured out with a sweeping arm.

"Don't mind if I do," Bulla nearly whispered on a grin, before dropping low into a sweep of the leg.

It nearly caught him at the heel, but in a half-second he leapt, only to be met with a hard right to his jaw. Was he rusty already, or was she just that fast? Bulla soared backward in a jump to part from him, allowing Goten time to stumble upright and hold the sore spot she'd left on his chin.

Flashing forward, the pair exploded into a series of blows back and forth, Bulla trying to dodge and pirouette out of range as swiftly as he could throw punches. Waiting for an opening, he saw one and struck her side, and she seethed with a roundhouse that he caught one-handed. Pitching her forward forcefully, Goten moved to strike another opportunity, but Bulla countered with a round of small ki blasts fired toward his midsection. One grazed his left rib, searing suit and skin in its wake, and Goten flew between them at high enough speed to tackle her to the floor in a catch of surprise.

Bulla was stronger than he had given her initial credit for. Her heels planted against his middle and heaved him over her head before he could secure a successful pin. They separated, panting, and that exhilaration had begun to roar at a deafening pitch in Goten's ears. It beat his heart wildly, awakening him in a way he couldn't recall a fight ever having done before.

"You've, uh, improved," Goten tried to joke between breaths to tamp down any burgeoning arousal her battle-born glow was beginning to inspire within him. "I'm impressed."

"You should be," Bulla returned almost haughtily with a toss of her hair, though the jest was still present. "And obviously. I'm not ten anymore."

He blushed. "I noticed. Was that the last time we-"

"There's an awful lot of talking and a lack of fighting going on, Saiyans," Vatet's high voice held an unspoken warning.

Goten exhaled through his nose, casting a dirty look askance to the window pane.

"Hey," Bulla murmured, and the hush of it drew his attention. "Let's get out of here, okay?"

Her intention was clear to him. Fun as this spar was, neither were interested in playing lab rat. With a small nod, Goten dashed at her, and Bulla caught his blow with a crossed arm block in front of her face. She lifted her right foot and landed a hard kick into his gut, with what Goten hoped was more force than intended.

Coughing violently, Goten attempted to suck back in the breath she's just knocked out of him. Bulla made to spin away, but he was quicker, hand snatching her forearm. She shrieked as he bent her arm up and behind her and, using a substantial amount of power, he drove a knee into the small of her back to shove her face-down against the ground in a submission hold.

He covered her torso with his as he straddled over her hips, his grip still firm around her forearm. Her little hiss of pain fluttered something low in his belly and made him push down on her harder. Some foreign, secret part of him relished the dominant position astride her. Open-mouth gasping against the tiles, Bulla squirmed underneath him, and Goten grit his teeth as he struggled to hold her in place.

"I think that's my win," Goten announced, and Bulla growled. "Not bad though, B!"

Her hips bucked backward in an effort to pitch him off her, and Goten stuttered as her bottom brushed the erection that had begun to swell in his suit. It sent an electric pulse through him, startling him with a jolt, and inadvertently he twisted her arm harder. Whether from pain or the intimate contact, Bulla arched with a groan, and Goten fell all the more breathless from it.

"Goten," she panted, and his name had never sounded like that before from anyone - raw in a way he couldn't quite describe. His wild eyes caught her glassy stare as she peeked back from over her shoulder. Both shuddered in their matched and labored breathing, as the baser desires Goten felt began to win out.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the intercom above clicked on, surprising the pair. Aware once more of their audience, Goten all but leapt off of Bulla, confused and ashamed and a little bit scared.

"You know that's not enough," Vatet drawled. "You know what we want to see, so do it."

To his right, he heard Bulla exhale shakily. She hadn't made it to standing again, seemingly paused mid-rise during the scientist's command. The look on her face was in contradiction of the pretty pink flush of her cheeks; she appeared crestfallen and then, when she met Goten's confused glance, apologetic.

"Change."

The one word that clarified. Goten stared hard at the floor as he understood that their only trump card had been made known to their captors.

"I'm sorry," Bulla whispered, and he was furious to find her so penitent for something that had been a matter of life or death. How could she apologize for that?

His hand fell upon the crown of her head and stroked gently down through her hair, and Goten softened a rueful smile down at her.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Bulla," he assured her. "It's okay."

Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was going to be okay or not. He wasn't much of a strategist, never the brains of the operation, and brute force was what he was best at. And optimism.

Goten turned back to the shadowed window with a glower, energy beginning to crackle and spark around him. Bulla shuffled back a cautionary step from the halo of ki he began to amass, and with a clench of his fists Goten tripled his power higher.

"Surely that's not all," Vatet goaded, and he was all the more happy to oblige her.

With a ferocious yell, Goten spiked his energy to that golden limit, warmth spreading across his body up to every follicle of hair. And then, he still pushed higher, digging into every reservoir of ki he could find within, until little shocks began to pop around his aura.

"There it is," Sebius' voice was a hush to his partner, barely audible over the incredible sweeping sounds of Goten's transformation, even behind the pane of reinforced material. "It's real. The legend is real."

"And we have two of them," Vatet said quietly in matched awe, eyes alight with wonder at the specimen before her.

But as quickly as their delight had manifested, it disintegrated as Goten unleashed an explosive round of blasts from his palms. The onslaught was unrelenting, causing shockwaves to ripple from just outside their viewing window.

As Sebius shrieked and ducked below the console, Vatet slammed her hand against the intercom button. "Saiyan, that's enough! Stand down!"

"Isn't this what you wanted?!" Goten snarled ferociously, hurling bright balls of ki into the chamber window. "Don't you want to see our power?!"

He was sure Bulla had called his name, but he was lost in the welling rage that had filled him, determined to do anything - blow down the ceiling or leave a dent, anything. To his surprise, however, Bulla's ki strengthened at his side, as she joined him in transformation with her own barrage of blasts.

Together they ravaged the windowed wall, and in a flash of purple and blue, the wall dipped and crumbled where it met the ceiling.

Goten's eyes flew wide. An opening; he saw it

He crouched into a familiar stance, palms drawn together as he collected whatever energy he could into his hands, and breathed.

"I said STOP! You will both have hell to pay if you don't stop at once!"

" _Ka… me…_ "

"Sebius! The tranq!"

Distantly, he heard a snatch behind him, canisters clinking. " _Ha… me…_ "

"Goten!" Bulla coughed his name as the room became bathed in a fog. The sweet chemical stung his eyes, suffocated him. Beside him, the girl collapsed to the floor, golden hair falling back to blue, her limp body enraging him.

With a final 'ha!' Goten blasted the energy wave at the divut they had created, and the chamber rocked vibrantly from ceiling to floor. A sonic boom careened into him from every direction, knocking him to his hands and knees.

Goten's body crumpled over as he lost feeling in all of his limbs, the sedative sinking in. He dragged in heavy breath after heavy breath, trying to fight the slow sink into white noise.

/*/

"Vegeta! Hey, Vegeta!" Gohan hollered down the hallway over the obnoxious beeping of the console. "Come see this!"

The older Saiyan made no rush nor did he dawdle in his way toward the cockpit. When Vegeta arrived, Gohan was turning off the signal. "This better be good." However, when he peered over the younger man's shoulder, he was left momentarily surprised. The console map was heralding their approach to the coordinates of the Institute.

"Pretty good, I'd say," Gohan half-joked, but the weight of the moment was not lost on him. "This is it. It says we'll be prepared to dock in about six hours or so."

Vegeta hummed in understanding as he leaned across the switches to check the coordinates himself. "Then we'd better get started. Make sure your pack is ready-"

"Bulma stored capsules for us in our bunks," Gohan nodded his agreement and finished setting the vessel to a slowing cruise. "Senzu, extra armor-"

"Suit up in the bounty hunter guard," Vegeta reminded him tersely. "And don't screw this up. If we blow this shot, we risk everything. When we get down there, I do the talking."

Gohan nodded gravely and dug out the loose papers Vegeta had retrieved from the bounty hunter ship. When he had approached Gohan about the plan, Gohan was admittedly apprehensive at first. They were going to pose as the assigned bounty hunters and present pieces of the male specimen's remains and other debris from the wreckage, and they'd try to work that angle as far as infiltration. Vegeta seemed sure he understood the paperwork, claiming to have worked with and against plenty of hunters in his time before Earth.

His confidence in the plan - and the fact that it was so far the only real "plan" - had settled Gohan's questions for the time being. But now as they were making their descent, the hints of second-guessing were threatening to take over. However, his faith in Vegeta was unwavering; there was no way Vegeta would concoct a plan without going over the same doubts and then some, especially when his family was on the line. Gohan had to believe the plan would work; there wasn't another choice.

"I'll follow your lead, Vegeta," Gohan inclined his head towards the older man. "Whatever needs done."

/*/

It was the first time since being here that she wasn't surprised to find herself sprawled out on the cool floor. Awakening with heavy lids, Bulla blinked slowly, trying to focus the spinning world into view. Given a few seconds, she registered she had been deposited somewhere unfamiliar, her body left thrown upon the ground in the small room.

Her heartbeat began a panicked racing as she scanned the perimeter, recognizing none of the passing ki signatures in her immediate vicinity and entirely unable to find even a trace of Goten's. Stiff joints and strained muscles screamed in protest as Bulla rolled over to her other side, and her re-cuffed hand peeled damp blue strands of hair from her forehead, her cheek, matted and stuck to her skin by blood, sweat, and ( _she'd never admit it_ ) drool.

Her body felt as if it was struggling to pull itself up as she drew into a sitting position. How many times had she been dosed today? She staggered up to her feet, glancing about the tiny cell she had been left in - only a single cot, a latrine and sink, and an intercom box on the wall were all that made it more than an empty, white square.

Sluggishly, Bulla made her way to the box, and she simultaneously pressed a button and propped her shoulder against the wall for support.

The box hummed. "Hello?" Bulla croaked against the speaker.

"SAY-01, I'm surprised you're up so soon. You must have quite the constitution," the static voice of Vatet answered.

"Where am I?"

The pause stretched almost a second too long. "You're currently in a solitary containment cell. Until we can take proper assessment of your baselines, you and SAY-02 will remain in individual holding for everyone's protection."

Bulla felt her stomach drop, and the heel of her hand crushed down on the call button once more as she fought the spins edging into her equilibrium. "Wait, no. I-is he okay? Where's Goten? I want to see him!"

"SAY-02 is in perfect health, I assure you, but I'm afraid you will not see one another until your first session," Vatet breezed as bile leapt into Bulla's throat. "The pair of you made a valiant effort. I'm actually impressed by the damage you both inflicted on the skills testing lab, but you can imagine why the Institute is apprehensive about housing you together at the moment."

"Please, let me see him," Bulla pleaded weakly, her fingers curling over the box for something else to hold on to, as a battle between fear and fury waged inside her chest. "Let me out of here!"

"Rest up, SAY-01," the scientist blatantly ignored the request. "You will be retrieved in a few hours, so try to conserve your energies."

Her mother and father's voices screamed in her head as her fist smashed against the intercom and fury won out. "Vatet, I'll make you regret this! Let me out!"

It was only the blinking light at her wrist that prevented her from smashing the box and a hole into the wall altogether, and Bulla pressed her forehead against the white tiles with a frustrated sob. Fresh tears stung and spilled in thick rivulets down her cheeks. It was impossible at this point that they had any chance of escaping, and now the next time she was going to see Goten was…

That bile creeping up her throat burned and Bulla barely made it to the toilet before her stomach upturned its contents into the bowl. Sinking to the floor, she gasped for breath, horrified by the reality they had been naive enough to try and deny all this time. Her hands gripped at the roots of her hair as she sat and wept, trying desperately to think of  _something, something, something_  to get out of here, yes, there had to be something.

But her mind was getting dizzy. Everything was fuzzy again. Another wave of disorientation muted every nerve.

"No, no…" she moaned, closing her eyes against the crest of it, before her head lolled along her shoulders and dimness invaded her senses.

…  _and she twisted, half-enveloped in water, clad only in a swimsuit. Bulla glanced around warily, unsure how she had ended up wading in the river on Mt. Paozu. The gently lapping rush of water was cool along her belly, the sunshine warm on her back, the breeze fresh as it blew about her azure locks. Her lungs expanded greedily and her ears strained to catch every sound around her._

_Home._

_And when she glanced toward the shore, she found Goten wading in swim trunks too, staring down at the water running past his hips._

_Longing and confusion in his tired eyes that she felt so similarly._

_"You're here, too?"_

_He almost startled to face her, but relief soon swooped in. He hushed her name, and they both turned their heads downward to examine the several feet of shallow river separating then, neither able to move._

_"...Does your family know you're here?" Goten wondered with a sudden backward glance toward the thick mass of trees._

_She scoffed. "Well if they didn't before, they probably do now, right?"_

_A weary chuckle, and Goten scratched at the back of his head. "Is your dad gonna be mad, y'think?"_

_"For what?" Why did her voice come out so coy?_

_He arched both eyebrows at her pointedly, and she had the decency to roll her eyes the other way with a smirk hanging off one side of her mouth._

_"He won't be mad," Bulla attempted to assuage his intentful staring. "You'll be safe with me."_

_"I wish I could say the same for you."_

_"I am safe with you," she narrowed her eyes at him, willing her legs to push through the current but remaining quite still. "What do you mean?"_

_His weight shifted in the water. "I should try harder to get over there," Goten's features strained for a moment. "Current's strong today, isn't it?"_

_Bulla hummed in agreement. "Maybe it'll let up soon. I'll wait for you?"_

_A glimmer from the sun caught her eye._

_"I guess you always have, huh?"_

/*/

When Goten opened his eyes, he was staring straight ahead and at nothing at all. Gone was the wafting mountain aroma that filled his chest, leaving only ache behind, with cold and clinical air all that surrounded him now.

The place he was confined in was barely but the space of his body, leaving not much room for movement. Hazily it occurred to him he didn't know where he was, or how he'd got there, and that across from his window was another pod several feet away, with Veron's hanging head housed behind it.

Anger tried to flutter to life upon recognition, but this heaviness was blowing it out. Veron lifted his head up, and somewhere in his groggy stupor, Goten knew he wanted to break out, beat the crap out of him-

But Bulla said she was waiting for him, right?

/*/

This was it. No turning back. He didn't need to tell the boy that; they both knew it to be true.

Grabbing up the stash of stolen paperwork, Vegeta nodded at Gohan as he entered the cockpit. The Saiyan prince gave him a quick once over. "You're wearing every piece of armor I gave you, correct?"

Gohan inclined his head, a weathered frown pulling at his mouth. He looked ridiculous, dressed head to toe in the stolen bounty hunter armor they'd acquired. Hopefully he'd be convincing enough to get through the guards.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and turned away with a snarl. "Just keep your mouth shut and let me do the talking," he barked for what was probably the millionth time, missing Gohan's eyeroll behind his back. "Here."

He tossed the younger man the antenna from the slain Gratya. "You show them that. Our proof we are who we say we are. They'll take us to pick up our reward, and as soon as we see an opening we search Bulla and your brother out."

"Got it," Gohan nodded, clearly set at unease by the appendage in his hands. He peered over at the console. "Should be docking in the next few minutes."

"Good," Vegeta huffed. His hands were absently shuffling through the boarding passes and hunter logs, and he handed over a set to Gohan. "Don't lose this."

The uncomfortable silence between them then hummed, like a gnat, in Vegeta's ear. Tension from the boy was evident. Something he was hiding, or something he was holding back. 

"What is it?" He snapped, startling Gohan. "You have something to say?"

Gohan's mouth was already flapping in surprise at having been caught, and he held up his hands to fend off Vegeta's ire. "No, no! I… I just…" Seeming to deflate, Gohan lowered both hands, and peered down at the floor, as though looking for a summary of his thoughts down there. "What… do we do for a plan B?"

A signal squealed from the top right corner of the console. But neither man paid it attention, caught in a state between one another. It wasn't until the exhausted began to bellow underneath their feet that Vegeta heaved deep breath and deviated his glare to the flashing bulbs that littered the table to their side.

" _Docking in… one minute…_ " The vessel announced from the intercom above their heads. " _Follow Docking Procedure 27-09_."

"Vegeta?" Gohan pressed.

As the vessel began its countdown, Vegeta grumbled to himself and pocketed the capsule container his wife had packed for them. "We improvise. And we remember the mission. Understand?"


End file.
